Blood Brothers
by MyraRain223
Summary: AU. What if Jason Todd never died? What if the world, including Bruce Wayne, thinks he did? What if Jason is saved that fateful night, not by Batman, but by a mysterious older man who claims ties of blood? What will Jason do when he learns he has a blood brother... dun dun dun, please R&R! Rated M for violence and Jason's infrequent expletives.
1. when all is lost

**Hey guys! So… This has been circling in my head for a while now and, despite having not finished my other story…. I just started writing. So, here it begins… ONWARD!**

Chapter 1

Jason Todd stood on the verge of total breakdown, his body and mind collapsing in on itself. The senseless creature stood over him. The blows just wouldn't _stop_. He didn't know how much more of this he could take, how much more before the insanity overtook him completely.

His heart fluttered with hope when the next blow was delayed. His mind knew better, could see the smile twisting on the being's nauseating face. And yet… there it was. The Joker fell back, away from Jason. For the first time that night, he felt joy at the sound of flesh hitting the floor.

He let himself breathe, wincing as he did. Everything hurt, his body, his mind, his spirit… yet none were broken. A few more blows and Jason knew they would have been, and that scared Jason more than anything that had happened that night. He let out a weak groan of pain before opening his eyes. "'bout time," he murmured. The figure before him now was shrouded in shadows, menacing, yet… oddly comforting. Maybe his years at Batman's side had taught him to trust the darkness rather than the light. Either way, this new presence emanated raw power, something that made the blood-soaked hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Sorry, Jay, but daddy's not coming." He did not recognize the voice and, despite his best efforts, Jason felt fear rising in him again. Maybe the Joker wasn't down yet; maybe this was just another ploy, a way to lift the boy's fragile spirits before crushing them with the finality that only that damnable crowbar could achieve.

"W-Who a-are you?" A weak, feminine voice asked from across the room. Jason had almost forgotten her in his agony. His mother, Sheila Haywood. The one that had betrayed him… Pain welled up, worse than any of the excruciating blows that Joker had landed.

"Have you forgotten me, mother dearest? Although, by the look of things, I don't think I want your 'remembrance'," The man whispered dangerously.

Jason vaguely heard his mother release a hiss of anger. His eyes had closed – when had that happened? Everything was… fading.

"Hold on there, kid, I'll get you out of this mess. You're… just…. Relax." Jason ceased hearing the man and his world spun around him at a dizzying pace. He coughed, though it hurt, and then let the floor fall out from under him. He let himself fall into unconsciousness.

…

When Jason came to he saw bright lights. He heard the crackle of fire and he wondered why everything sounded so… warped. Closing and opening his heavy lids yielded a clearer image. The warehouse he had been in was maybe about three miles below him. He watched as something dark moved among the dancing flames. _Bruce_… His heart felt heavy, he wanted to call out to his father-figure, yet something held him back. As Jason's awareness slowly returned to him, he realized that someone sat beside him.

"I'm glad to see your alive after all of that."

"'M a resilient kid." Jason mumbled slowly, it felt like rocks were in his mouth, keeping him from speaking. Talking hurt, as did breathing. His lungs were battered and rubbing uncomfortably against his broken ribs.

"Or perhaps resilient genes." The man said. The Boy Wonder eyed him warily. Jason estimated that he was about 6'3" at full height, 200 lbs. Each movement he made was somewhat graceful, yet obviously powerful. It reminded Jason of both Bruce and Grayson. The refinement of an acrobat combined with the muscle of the strong man. It was a balance of sorts. There was no way Jason could escape if this guy wanted to keep him here. Not now, anyways, not with his body rebelliously refusing to obey his mind's commands.

The man shifted, turned his gaze to look at Jason. The teal- green color of his eyes, the strong set of his jaw, even his raven black hair color… it was like looking in a reflection. Jason's eyes widened. "My name, is Jaxon Haywood. Sheila's firstborn brat," the man said.

There was an unconquerable silence between them. Jason stared at those eyes that were too much like his own to deny it. His lip quivered, anticipating… well, anticipating some sort of action. When none came he relaxed visibly. There was nothing he could do. "Nice to meet you, bro." Jason said with all the childish insubordination he could muster. The man shook with laughter, watching Jason warily scoot back away from him.

"You can call me Jax. You're one lucky kid, Jason. It just so happens that you and I came here for the same reason. To see Mommy dearest." He gestured to the wreckage below them just as Bruce lifted the very limp form of Sheila Haywood from the rubble. "I only had time to save one. I chose my little brother," Jax whispered seriously.

Jason watched for a moment, remembering the steady background beeping of a bomb in the warehouse. He nodded his understanding. Anger over what his mother had done seethed within him; it boiled up to the surface. Then he let it all go in a puff of air before falling onto his back and letting sleep steal him away. again.

…

Batman searched among the rubble for almost an hour. Long after the authorities had arrived and taken the dead, burned body of Sheila Haywood away. The Joker had been nowhere in sight, but that was to be expected. What the Dark Knight hadn't expected was to find no trace of Robin… no trace of Jason. He was sure that his partner had been taken, so what had happened? Where was… where was the body. Common sense told him that if the boy had been close enough to the epicenter of the blast that it would have disintegrated. But Bruce refused to believe that. He didn't have it in him to believe that his son was dead…

That's when he saw it. The flash of color. He ran to it, and then realized what it was. He lifted the bloodstained cloth from the ground. The tears fell freely now as he read the single letter emblazoned there: "R".

He felt a sense of déjà vu, the son had lost both parents and now… the parent had lost the son. The familiar ache returned in his chest and his shoulders felt heavy with the burden of guilt. My son…. My partner. My soldier. _My fault._

…

When The Batman rose from his place of mourning, he found that the authorities had gone. No one was here to see the pain weighing down each of The Dark Knight's steps. If there was an attack now, he had no doubt he would lose. His alter ego faltered and then shattered, feeling the unrequited finality of the situation; the absolute defeat of having to walk away from a fight without the smaller frame that had stood by him for over four years. Conversely, Bruce Wayne sensed the crushing heartache that came with the loss of a child. Rather than defeat, Bruce felt utter darkness; he felt a loss of unrelenting proportions. This cut him deeply, so profoundly that Bruce had no idea how to crawl his way back from it.

The Batman did. Taking over, the Bat thrust himself forward through the debris. The grief was gone now, replaced with a white hot rage that burned pure and bright in his dark soul. This side of Bruce Wayne held his head high, planning all the ways he would make The Joker pay for this. Batman would make the psychotic filth pay for leaving a father without even a body to bury.

**Now… REVIEW! PLEASE? **


	2. damaged and captivated

**ALLLLLLL right! Next chapter posted. Please let me know what you think of this, if you hate it, let me know, if you love it, same drill… reviews will decide if I continue this story or if I end it here! For all the fans of red hood, do not fear Jason will be taking up that mantle within the next couple of chapters which should be posted within the week. Thanks guys!**

**ONWARD!**

Ch. 2 Three months later

Jason stared at his brother across the table. Jax stared back. Both their faces were turning red, yet both brothers refused to break the contest of wills. Cheers could be heard coming from every direction, it simulated a battle arena. A fitting image for this – the ultimate battle… Jason couldn't handle it any longer, he let out his breath hastily before gasping for oxygen laboriously. He clutched his throat intermittently as airflow was returned to his sore lungs. A smile spread across his brother's face as Jax slammed his open hand on the table, letting a fit of laughter take him. Jason glared at him before breaking into a lighthearted chuckle as well. Jason had slowly been healing and today, the final cast – his arm brace – had come off. To say he had healed quickly would be an understatement. Today also marked another important occasion, the day Jason would begin his training. This would be a great deal harder than what he had experienced under Bruce's tutelage and it was one of the reasons Jason had not gone looking for his father after coming to. The other was that this man standing before him – well, sitting – was his blood brother. Jax had shown Jason DNA evidence of the two's shared patronage shortly after Jason had awoken for the third time. Though there were still mysteries surrounding that day, Jason chose to leave them buried with the past. Thinking about what he'd lost… it hurt, and Jason was not a fan of painful memories.

This was an irrefutable tie that had not been deceived and – in Jason's mind – _could_ not be broken. He chose to believe that his mother's betrayal had just been a… separate case. Something altogether different from the one he was putting himself in now. A voice in the back of his mind, one that sounded surprisingly like Bruce Wayne, told him he was naïve, but he had chosen to ignore it thus far in favor of his childish optimism. He sometimes found himself wishing he was back home with Bruce… With Dick and Alfred… but that life was behind him now. He had always been afraid that Bruce would decide he was unworthy of being Robin, of being Batman's protégé and son, and drop him back on the streets of Gotham. Regardless of how unlikely, this had always been a thought present in his head. Here? Jax had treated him as an equal, despite their five year age difference. Jax seemed to trust the younger's judgment in most matters. It was a relief not to be compared to the elder on the basis of skill.

Yes. This was where he belonged. Although terror of that night still haunted Jason, Jax had been there to help him. Their time together hadn't felt wrong, not like Jason was used to. It was… difficult to explain, but Jason's anger began to fade. Replaced now with… something entirely foreign to Jason.

He was a street kid first and foremost and trust was not an easy thing to earn from him, yet Jaxon had won it without the prolonged effort Bruce had made. Though Jason still longed to see his father again, to tell him that he was alive, that he… cared about Bruce and Dick and Al… This was his life now, there could be no other way. No matter how much he longed for that life, Jason's debt to Jax had not yet been repaid.

Presently the brothers were on their way to a place called Kor Hol. Jax had described it as a place on par with All Caste, which was a place of extreme training. If he went through with this, Jason would be skilled enough to fight someone of Bruce's caliber with no trouble. That was the single attracting factor of the deal.

Kor Hol was located, Jax said, in the upper region of Russia. It was said the area was constantly shrouded in mist, making it difficult to spot even on the brightest days. One would only be capable of getting there if they were either A: previously released from training, or B: VERY committed to training.

And everything was riding on today. Jax had offered him the chance to return home, to the three people that had made up his family for the past few years, or to stay and train with him. Jason's life was laid out before him and he knew exactly what path to take. As Jax stood from the rickety wooden table, Jason too stood to greet their fate.

…

It was nightfall when he and Jason had finally stopped traveling. They had avoided major airports and instead used unconventional means of travel. Local work animals, fisher boats, snow skiing, etc., anything to avoid attention. Soon his little brother would be firmly under Kor Hol's scrutiny. This child, he would be Jax's saving grace. The son of Batman! To think of it.

Their blood connection was real, make no mistake, and Jax would be careful not to break it. When his mother, their mother, had given birth to him he had been taken the members of Kor Hol. That simple fact is what had driven Jax to seek her out. As chance would have it, his need to find her coincided perfectly with that of his little brother's. after first spotting the boy, Jax had done some research on Sheila. It was through this research that he learned that she had never reported Jax's birth, while the kid – Jason – had been taken by his father to live in some town called Gotham. Intrigued, Jax had done more surveillance. That was when he discovered a very interesting little snid bit: Jason was Batman's protégé Robin. Reporting these findings back to headquarters as ordered, the Order took great interest in the boy.

When he had found Jason in that warehouse he had been ordered to bring the boy back, make it look like he had died to any others. He would have done it anyways, the kid inspired something in him, Jax could only guess it was something like… protectiveness. Now that the two had spent time with one another, well, Jax felt his heart sinking with each step they made towards what had been his prison since he was a one-year- old. There was no backing down now, even though Jason would be twisted there, twisted into something else entirely. Not a soldier, but a weapon to be used by the Superior Order. He would be trained to be Jax's equal; in fact, with his current level of skill Jax had no doubt Jason would one day surpass him.

Jax closed his eyes, what he needed was to escape from under his masters' thumb. However, the only way that could be made even remotely possible was if his little brother could one day help him escape. Separated they were bound to fail, but together they could succeed… Together they could bring down Kor Hol and its ring of trafficking, they could save all the children back there that were still counting on Jax's safe return. Emotion was not something Jax was familiar with. He had shown it during his training and it had almost cost him his life… Yet, Jax would dare to say that Jason had inspired hope in him.

This was his last shot. Jason Peter Todd. Perhaps he truly was the Boy Wonder…

…

The air was fresh and icy and carried with it the promise of rain. There was no sunlight, just the grey and bleary eyed clouds. They seemed to be holding their breath in noble anticipation of something. Whatever it was, Bruce hoped it came soon. The billionaire looked at the grave. It was white and unmarred, handsomely guarding over the disturbed earth. The coffin was below ground, he knew, it was much too small for an adult and that made the day that much more horrendous. The boy wasn't even inside, yet, in the interest of keeping the boy's night time activities a secret, a plastic replica had been carefully laid out within it. No one but Dick, Alfred and himself would know that.

_Jason_

_Friend – ally – son _

The words seemed too insignificant. This child was mourned, many had arrived for his funeral, and others sent word of condolence. Jason's old team with the Titans had come, as had a few others that had claimed benevolent ties to this child or to the grieving father. All had left long ago.

The boy was buried in the Wayne private cemetery; after all, Jason was his son… The pain struck out at him again, and he smothered it beneath his iron will. There were no tears on his face as he stared silently. Dick, on the other hand, was crying quietly and painfully to his left. Alfred stood stoically behind the two, watching and waiting for his broken family. Like the clouds, the old patriarch was overseeing the event, also waiting for the cataclysmic event which seemed inevitable. Bruce let the cold chill his bones before turning abruptly and trekking towards the Manor.

"That's it?" He heard from behind him.

"What do you want me to say?" Bruce asked seriously, not bothering to turn around.

Footsteps approached. Bruce didn't even try to avoid the blow that struck him square in the jaw. He stumbled back, but did not fall. "You bastard. Jaybird was your son, _your son_, and you can't even shed a tear over his death?" Dick was angry, Bruce calculated.

"He would not care for tears," He said simply. His jaw was growing red where dick had hit him.

"I thought you left that damn cowl back in the cave. You say he wouldn't care for tears, and maybe you're right. He wouldn't want to see those tracks on the Batman's face. But on his father's? It would be heartbreaking _not_ to." Dick swallowed hard. He shoved at Bruce before leaving him standing on the cemetery road.

Bruce numbly pushed a hand through his hair, wishing, not for the first time that day, that he did have his cowl to hide his expression of sorrow. A single drop of rain fell, and the tracks were made there anyways.

Bruce found himself thinking of the little boy he had raised. The one that had often been caught sneaking out of the house, the child that had given Bruce a crooked and mischievous smile whenever he was up to no good, the growing teen that had often been seen raiding the fridge at obscene hours as though he was starving, the partner that had shown no fear in combat as Robin… The son who had come to him at night, seeking comfort and shelter from a terrible nightmare or particularly loud storm, though neither would admit to it the next day… suddenly Bruce found he could no longer use the cover of rain to hide his ragged sobs of anguish. It hit him like a freight train: Jason Todd-Wayne was dead.

**Aww.. poor bruce… well, that's it for this chapter…**

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	3. sweet release

**Alright… here comes the next chapter… it's a bit of a monster… I rewrote this thing three times and this is what came of it… Big secrets are coming up next and Bruce is going to be in for quite a shocker… at least, I hope they will be. ^^" **

**ONWARD!**

Jason Todd-Wayne is dead. They told him that every chance they got. They tried to strip his humanity away until he was no longer the man that was. And for a moment each day, he truly believed it. His body was broken down as completely as it had been in the warehouse. Jax had been ripped from his side the first day he had arrived. And he had been suffering ever since. True, he was gaining muscle mass, overall height (he stood at 6'2"), and amazing new abilities and strengths, but at what cost? Each day they threw at him insults, bearing down on him like he was less than human, no more than a weapon to be used whenever the Superior Order chose. It had been just over five years since he had joined their order and still the abuse continued. He had no doubt that he would carry these scars for as long as he lived, some marred his skin so horribly it hurt just to look at them.

Jason had learned tricks and techniques that he was sure that not even Grayson could imitate with all his acrobatic gifts. He had learned to become invisible, he had learned certain skills that he was sure even Bruce would believe impossible. And most importantly, he had learned just how easy it was to be broken. Thinking of Jax…. Of Bruce, Al, and Dick… These memories were what kept him going.

Training every day, sixteen hours a day was what gave him these newfound abilities and what made him theirs – or so they thought. His master was a man named Kai. No last name. He was brutal, nearly killing Jason every day for the first year he spent training. The first day Jason spent here the man had nearly broken Jason's neck. This was what taught Jason to be quick and nimble on his feet. The Second day Kai had matched Jason's speed and returned it with pure muscle, taking Jason into his arms and breaking four of his ribs. That was what taught Jason to be quick, nimble, and _strong_. The street kid in him is what saved his life, his natural resiliency and aversion to, y'know, dying.

Three years into his training had given him insight into how the operation was run. The Superior Order, the main eight training gurus (or whatever the hell they wanted to call themselves) who were in charge, would send out members to gather up new recruits each year, most were invisible children, some were trafficked, others were brought in from elsewhere. Jason was one of the "elsewhere" kids. Most of those that were brought didn't make it past the first week. Those that were brought in young enough were trained on an easier scale than the others, mainly because they had their whole lives to be prepared. Jax was one of those.

In that same year Jax had come to him, told him his plan of escape, all of it. His blood brother had admitted to bringing him here selfishly. He had admitted that Jason was intended to be the saving grace of the kids here. Jason had hated him for that for a while, but soon realized the dire situation at hand. If the brothers did nothing, more blood would be on their hands. By the fifth year, and by the time Jason had become the leading member of Kor Hol, Jason had agreed to Jax's plan.

Now Jason was facing Kai for a chance at freedom for himself and his brother… and the other children here, the ones that were left at least. He wore a black Kevlar-enforced bodysuit that was standard for the Order's members. The suit covered every inch of him and still allowed a full range of mobility because of certain properties Jason had not bothered to retain. "_If only I had a leather jacket to carry my trinkets_…" he thought. Maybe he would modify it later, after they got out of this godforsaken place.

Just then Kai ran at him, the pure speed of the move was impossible to see if you weren't trained to catch it. Jason sidestepped with imperceptible speed, matching his master's. They danced like this for mere moments, but the fight dragged for hours in his mind. The two exchanged blows when they got close, a punch here, a kick there, but neither one gained any real ground. Jason was vaguely aware that Jax had broken the code to the cells (yeah, did he mention that the past five years had been spent on the inside of a prison-like cell with about five other kids?). The distraction was enough, Kai landed a well-placed blow under Jason's chin and he could swear he saw stars with how much power was packed behind that punch.

Jason was ready for the next one, grabbing Kai's wrist he brought the older man close before stretching the arm out and breaking it at the elbow with the practiced ease of breaking a pencil. Kai made now sound of pin as his eyes lit with anger, but Jason gave him no chance to rest. He maneuvered himself behind Kai, bringing the arm with him. With single "POP" The shoulder went out of joint. This time Kai hissed in pain as Jason let the arm fall limply to his side. Next Jason had to – but his mentor was quick to recover, he twisted around and flung a powerful punch to Jason's abdomen. Luckily he was prepared, before the blow hit Jason had let out his air and tensed. This allowed The boy to recover from the blow quickly.

This was the end, both of them knew it. Jason brought his leg up before bringing it down with all the force he could muster. _Crack_ and there went Kai's Left leg, the bone broken on impact. _Crack_ and there, Jason thought, went the right. Kai was on the floor, down for the count. Jason took in a single ragged breath before backing away from his master. Kai writher on the floor, still trying to come after Jason, the sight made him sick.

"Jason!" He turned to see his brother helping a little girl, kiana he thought, out the main entrance, "We have to go. Now." Jax was breathing heavily.

Jason took this moment to take in his surroundings. The floor where he was standing was the arena-like area he had been fighting on since he had first arrived. Covered in crimson sand the place was built like a coliseum, complete with gates leading to dangerous animals and captive warriors alike. The stands were empty now, the other 'gurus', as Jason liked to call them, were out on separate missions, Kai and Jax's master Razvan had been expected to be enough to hold down the fort. That was why the prison break had to happen now.

Jason ran to his brother and the two began to round up the remaining children. Jason carried three young ones that had been injured, two he held in his arms the third on his back. Jax was in much the same situation. But it didn't matter, they had made it. They had crippled the Order's ranks and in precisely thirty minutes the building would explode, leaving nothing but ash.

Two men, whom Jason recognized from his training as handlers (those that were leagues below him in training, yet used to torment and humiliate new arrivals) ran towards him each of them held electric-charged rods.

Jason put two fingers to his lips and let out an earsplitting whistle. He could hear barking echoing off the mountains and out of the mist came his fabled companion. Kaiser. He was a large European wolf, one that had bonded to Jason after he had saved the starving pup from the cruel Russian mountainside. The animal was large for its species, with a broad skull and large shoulders; he came just above Jason's waist. Originally the runt of the litter, the creature had grown to be a deadly adversary. Jason had trained the creature to be just as deadly beside him as Jaxon was. Kaiser's black and flecked gold coat was spread around him in a show of aggression. He growled, revealing yellowed fangs. The men stood still a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Jason whistled softly twice and the animal was in motion, ripping at the first handler's throat before swiftly dispatching the second. When the job was done he loped lazily to Jason's side, panting and licking his chops as blood ran down his muzzle.

"Good boy." Jason said softly. Kaiser huffed in response. Jason chuckled a bit at the irony of the name. The masters always had hated Germans… hence the name Kaiser.

Jax Smiled beside him. "I'm glad you found that dog, he may have just saved us a good five minutes."

He nodded, and after about a ten minute jog the brothers and their little group had made it to the South side of the base. It was here that the Order kept its private jets. Jason was the only one that knew how to fly one. The Brothers as well as a few of the older children helped the kids up the stairs to the jet. After everyone was safely aboard Jax opened the hanger doors while Jason prepped the plane. Luckily the plane was fully fueled they probably had enough to make it to America, but that wasn't the plan. England was the a safest bet, they would make an "emergency" landing there and then the brothers would go about finding homes for each of the children… good homes, where each of them would be taken care of. He counted thirty-four children here. Maybe five of them could fend for themselves with enough money under their belts. Jason shook his head as Kaiser lethargically plopped down beside him in the cockpit. He was glad for the company. He waited for the all clear from Jax before he pulled out all the stops and put the jet into motion. Jason could see assassins below him in the loading bay, but he ignored them, there was no way to stop the jet now.

For the first time in five years Jason wanted to cry out in complete joy. The jet took off at high speeds and the base of Kor Hol faded below him like a bad memory before, right on time, the entire place went up in smoke.

…

The plane made its 'unexpected' landing in Heathrow airport, London almost three hours later. They gathered the children and led them out of the plane. When the airport personnel arrived they would find the jet abandoned on the air strip. Now it was time to call in some favors… Well, Jax would be calling them in. Every last kid here had to go to a good home. One way to ensure that was to call the man with the heart of gold, and deep pockets. Jason's father was the solution.

The kids shuffled away from the jet and, on Jason's say-so, hid themselves away from prying eyes. It was warm here, just under sixty degrees. Much better than Russia. Jax sighed heavily as they waited for the airport security to arrive and leave. Then Jax flipped open his mobile. They were untraceable, so the call would be safe.

He stared at Jason as it rang, Jason mouthed for him to turn it on speaker. Jax complied just before the phone clicked and an older, weathered voice answered the phone.

…

When Alfred entered the Batcave, Bruce had expected to see piping hot tea or some sort of food. Instead he saw the elderly man holding the landline phone for the manor. He gestured for the patriarch to bring him the phone as he continued working on the little Bat-communicator before him.

"Hello?" He said, his voice only semi-focused on the conversation about to unfold.

"Bruce Wayne?" The voice struck him and ice formed around his heart. His eyes traveled to the Robin memorial case. It sounded like… Jason…

"Who is this? Is this some kind of Joke?" His voice quivered a bit, despite his best efforts.

"I can assure you, Mr. Wayne, this is far from it. My name is Jaxon, my jet just had to take an emergency detour into the Heathrow airport and I need your… expertise."

"Oh? And how did you get this number?" Bruce sounded skeptical. The voice had shaken him at first, but now he noticed differences in both the annunciation of words and the overall tone of voice.

"Look, I can't really divulge everything over the phone. I'll leave it at… lives are at stake here Mr. Wayne. Children's lives."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of threat?" He growled.

"No, sir. It's the truth. I've recently… err… liberated some kids out of a very bad situation, I need your help to get them safely put in good homes. Your name was put forth by… someone I trust." The man, Jaxon, spoke quickly. Bruce found after listening that he believed the stranger.

"I'll make my way there immediately." Bruce hung up.

"Can you believe how similar…" Alfred began, but Bruce gestured for him to stop.

"My son died, this man is just someone that needs help. I intend to try."

"Sir, I never mentioned _his_ name… but, if I may ask, could this not be a trap? Using someone that sounds just like –"

"Like nothing. I'm going to Heathrow." And that was the end of the matter.

**REVIEW! Pretty please?**


	4. expansion

**Allllll right, here's the next chapter. I would like you all to know that most of the children mentioned in this story are victims of kidnappings and otherwise nefarious deeds by Kor Hol, and that they are enemies of many of the other training operations in Batman…. Do with that information what you will. **

**ONWARD!**

Chapter 4

Jax shut the phone, signaling an end to the event Jason had expected to be catastrophic.

"Someone you trust?" He asked with a smirk.

"What can I say? He's a trustworthy guy." Jax returned the crooked smile and elbowed his little brother in the ribs lightheartedly.

Jason took out a sheet of paper and waved it in the air to gather the children's eyes to him. "I want all of you to write down the name you were born under. If you can remember it. If not, or if that is a chapter you'd rather leave behind you, this is your chance to start a new life," he smiled, "it will be alright, kids." They looked at him collectively with wonderment. Jason moved forward, parting them. He laid his hand on the last child before him. His brown hair was shaggy and unkempt, his eyes a deep hazel that reflected the rays of the sun. He handed the paper to the boy before retrieving a pen and handing that to the child as well.

The children, some as young as five, some as old as eighteen, turned to their task. Jason could not say how his heart sank at the thought that all of these children could kill, yet only about half of them knew how to write. Jax looked at him then, obviously thinking the same dark thoughts. He stepped back and watched the little ones go about their task.

Unsurprisingly, most of them (at least the ones Jason knew), chose to change their names. A couple had come to him asking for suggestions if they – and they would not admit it one way or another – happened to 'forget' their names. And so, to his eternal shame (pshh yeah right), many walked away with names like "Richard", or "Catherine", one even walked away with the name "Jason"…

He found himself feeling satisfied, proud even, with the day's accomplishments. Soon his father would be here… and Jason decided that tomorrow he would reveal himself to Bruce. He had a chance at the family he had left behind before… He reveled in the idea even as the wind tugged at his hair in spiteful reminder that the day was young and change was constant.

…

When Bruce arrived in Heathrow he was greeted with waves of excitement. People rushed about him to the left and right all trying to get a look at the billionaire with the heart of gold. Tim and Dick stood on either side of him. Not wanting to disappoint the people of England, Bruce had reluctantly agreed to his eldest son's ploy to show union between a broken family.

And make no mistake, the Wayne family _was_ broken.

Barbara and her little birds had agreed to step up patrols to safeguard their fair Gotham in the Bat family's absence. This way Knight's presence (or rather, lack thereof) would pass fairly unnoticed. Bruce spared a glance at his two sons, well, his two _remaining_ sons. Tim, with all his boyish charm and handsome features was not-so-modestly blowing a few kisses at the local ladies while Dick, ever the glutton for attention, soaked up the uproarious cheers that greeted them. Tim's hair was combed back, to keep it out of his eyes, though a few strands still hung loosely in his face. It suited him. Dick preferred to keep his hair a little longer and wore it loosely cropped around his face. Both had raven-black color. Bruce found himself thinking of how Jason would have looked, how he would have changed his appearance from the haphazard outline he had kept as a child. Now the pain was back, and Bruce couldn't afford it.

Pushing away his rebellious thoughts, Bruce ran a shaky hand through his own dark locks. The movement soothed him and when he looked up his sons were staring at him. Both of them had unwavering blue eyes. Jason's had been a teal-green…

Damn the boy for invading his every thought. But, he supposed, that was as it should be. He deserved to be tortured for the rest of his life for his failure that day.

The Billionaire shook his head and then moved to lead his boys onward. His mobile began ringing a generic tone in his pocket. Lifting the tech to his ear Bruce waited.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm glad to hear that you have arrived safely in London." The man said jovially. Regardless of how similar the voice sounded to Jason's, Bruce knew his son's voice had never held that height of happiness. Jason's had always carried an undertone of sorrow… something Bruce had never been able to fix…

"If you would be so kind as to give me an address of where to meet you we could…" But Bruce cut him off. Maybe the voice was really getting to him…

"I have rented out the building on 450 Westminster Avenue for this; please arrive promptly in two hours." Bruce hung up the phone. He couldn't hear that voice any longer, even if it wasn't Jason's.

He sighed, then gestured for the boys to follow him to the coordinates. He had been rude over the phone, he realized, and he had been sour and angry more often than not in his personal life, Bruce Wayne's life. The Bat was starting to creep into his daily life too often and it was getting frustrating. It was like since that day the barrier between the two had begun to dissolve. Although, that was not entirely true. Bruce Wayne became more reclusive while the Bat became more active. The shift was subtle, yet obvious after it had taken place. Like a boulder rolling down an inclined plane his grief had carried him to becoming the harbinger of justice that was willing to go to any lengths to serve justice… well, except when it came to the Joker…

NO. He was not letting that psychotic filth into his mind. The bastard hadn't been a problem for Bruce since the days following Jason's death. Batman had hunted the clown down and – but no, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on the creature any longer. He relaxed as he reached the limo that would bring them to the address. Tim and Dick shuffled in after him and Bruce let the memories he held too close to his heart fade away as the car shifted into motion.

…

Jaxon shifted uncomfortably as he turned off the phone. How in the hell was he going to get all these kids to Westminster in two hours? He sighed and looked at his brother. Pride swelled in his chest, they were free, the children were free, and they could all start their new lives soon. It was just the whole, "how-the-fuck-am-I-gonna-pull-this-sleight-of-hand-off?" thing that was really worrying him now. Perhaps Jason and he could "liberate" a few vans? But that wouldn't do any good, he was the only one that knew how to drive, well, the only one that _legally_ knew how to drive.

"Jason, I'm gonna need your help on this one." Jax gestured for his brother to came to him and so the younger darted over idly.

"What's up?" Jason asked innocently.

Jax explained the situation to him.

Jason let his eyes fall to the ground beneath them. It wasn't safe to take public transportation with the risk of being spotted on camera, so the Underground and trains were out of the question. Taxis would not accommodate the sheer number of children the boys needed to keep together, the buses might have worked but none were running this late at night. Jason's gaze shifted over their surroundings once, twice, then they seemed to settle on something in the distance. His eyes lit up with a fire of determination as he turned back to his brother.

"What are you thinking?" Jax asked warily.

"I'm thinking that schools not in session and we have the perfect opportunity waiting for us." He smiled wickedly and Jax felt dread creep into his heart as he caught sight of what Jason was talking about.

"You honestly think they won't notice those things being 'misplaced'?" he asked incredulously.

"I think I don't give a damn. We really need to liberate us some of them vehicles." Another devil-may-care grin was passed his way and Jax groaned inwardly.

…

They had managed to "liberate" the unused school bus from the old lot easily. It only took Jason a matter of moments to hotwire it and then they were gone. He had to admit it was _very_ strange to drive on the left side of the road….

"You know," Jax said to his brother, "I'm the one at risk here for losing my license"

"Yeah, but it was forged anyways." Jason smiled, "didn't think I knew about that, did ya?" Jason winked at him.

"That's irrelevant." Jax huffed, but returned to safely driving. Well, kinda safely driving while speeding like a maniac.

The kids had loaded on in a matter of moments, then Jax had shoved his brother out of the driver's seat and into the back. Jason was pleased that the cops – or bobbies or whatever they're called – didn't make a habit of pulling over school buses for speeding… apparently the yellow atrocities had not yet gone into wide use in London yet, though the idea was catching on. Hence the bus. The bus made no stops save one: The art store. Jax stood up and walked off the bus. When he came back he threw a silver and black half mask to Jason and put a matching one on himself.

"If we're going to confront your ex-partners we'll need a simple guise." Jax said simply before speeding towards their main objective. Jason reluctantly put on the mask, noting that it fit perfectly. It covered more than a domino mask would, yet it could not hide his white streak or the rest of his midnight-black hair. Absently he stroked the white tuft of hair. Jax had said it was probably better that he did have the long scar which caused the hair to grow white (or so they suspected). It would help ensure Jason wouldn't be recognized until he wanted to be. It felt oddly comforting to wear it.

Jax then threw him a passport and some bills, both American and British. The name on the document read Jake Smith.

"Smith?" Jason asked skeptically.

"And I am Jaxon Smith." It's perfect.

"Yeah, perfectly stupid."

"No, perfectly ambiguous." Jax's tone was grave.

Jason snorted derisively, but said no more. This might work. He was curious to see how his father had changed in the years since his disappearance. He wondered if Bruce had worked any of this out.

"Let me do the talking until you're ready to reveal yourself, all right?" Jax said seriously.

"I'm not stupid Jax, I know." Jason spat defiantly. He wasn't a child, he knew what he wanted.

"I know, brother. I know" Still he looked downcast

They arrived, not surprisingly (with Jax's speeding) before Bruce did and that afforded them the luxury of getting the kids inside and waiting before all hell – ok, maybe an exaggeration – broke loose.

When the children were situated Jason walked around until he found the last little one writing his name on the paper he had handed out. The child had jet black hair that was spiked up away from his small head. He turned his brilliant blue eyes on Jason when he approached.

"I'm not sure how to move out." he squeaked up at him. He was small, maybe five years old. He knelt before the kid.

"Well, we've already done the moving part. Remember Jax's crazy driving?" That elicited a smile that showed off the boy's missing front tooth. He returned his smile in kind.

"What if my new family doesn't like my name? What if they don't like me? Can I just stay with you forever?" The questions left him baffled, but he quickly recovered.

"Well, I'm sure your family will love your name, they couldn't _not _like you, and no you can't just stay with my brother and me." He said, though his heart sank when the kid turned his eyes down.

"Well, what if no one wants me?" He asked innocently.

Jason chuckled lightheartedly, "Don't worry, someone will want you. And if not then maybe I'll reconsider taking you with me to America." The boy smiled and hugged him around the neck. Jason tensed at the contact first, but softened to him soon enough.

"What's your name anyways? Who was your mother, or do you remember?" The boy stepped back regarding him warily.

"I don't know much about my Dad other than the fact that he lives in some place called Gotham. I know my Mom's name was Talia, though. I'm Damian, Damian Al Ghul."

**Bet you didn't expect that. Haha! So here it is. Thanks for the patience guys. **

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	5. Just Breathe

**Sorry ahead of time guys, you're all going to hate Tim. Or me… but preferably Tim. Lol. Thanks for reading guys. Your reviews keep me encouraged to write more each day. Just for reference, Jason is about an inch and a half taller than Jaxon, this minute detail should be hard to spot, but not to a very good detective. Kay? Cool.**

**ONWARD!**

Jason blinked. The boy was… no, but the timeframes matched up… how had Talia let this little one out of her sight though? It didn't make sense to him. _Bruce _had gone to _Talia_ for comfort? Jason let out an irritated snort.

"Looks like you might be coming home with me after all, kid." The child's eyes lit up with excitement and hope.

"I promise I won't do anything to screw this up, I won't make you hate me too…" Jason winced. The kid sounded like him. Just waiting for the shoe to drop… But now was not the time for this. He scooped the boy up in his arms and walked to his brother – well, his _other_ brother. Jax stared at him, obviously waiting for him to start.

"I'll explain later." He whispered noncommittally. A knot formed in his stomach, something didn't feel right. Kaiser was there beside him, licking his fingers in silent encouragement. Rather than voice his discomfort, Jason began pacing. The boy in his arms soon fell into a deep sleep against his chest. It had a rather soothing effect on him. He was glad for the mask now, the children would not see his brow furrowed with worry, and they would not be inclined to feel afraid.

Just then the billionaire of the hour arrived. Along with Dick and some other kid. Jason felt his heart soar at first site and the child in him wanted to run to Bruce and kiss him right there. The child in his arms simply shifted to watch these next spectacular moments unfurl.

…

As Bruce walked through the double doors of the rented out lobby, he was struck immediately by a dual set of teal-green gazes. Both held a passion and fury and power that could go unmatched, in Bruce's mind, to anyone but Jason Todd. The weight of that broke something inside him and suddenly Bruce was no longer The Billionaire here to help, he was the Batman here to bring justice.

His glare was out and ready immediately, he was simply surprised that the boys did not flinch away from it. Instead the ones with the masks stepped forward, their eyes returning the glare two fold. One of the men, the taller, the one with a surreal white streak that was a stark contrast to his black hair, was holding a small child in his arms. The boy was no older than four or five by his estimation and when he turned a deep blue gaze on Bruce… well, the Bat, thought he was looking in a mirror. Shaking off the feeling he returned his steady gaze on the masked figures. They wore armor. The design was high tech and well reinforced against bullets and most likely a wide variety of daggers. It was probably on par with what Batman would wear. Telling by their stances the two had probably served in the military or otherwise served under some strict and higher service, though the younger of the two looked to be more relaxed yet somehow more ready for attack, more expectant of it… it reminded him of someone…

"Your names. Now." No time for formalities. The mission would continue no matter what continent he was on. Around the two men stood children, bedraggled but dressed in suits somewhat similar to the two men's. It seemed eerily similar to some sort of prison break…

The two looked taken aback, but the older (by his calculation twenty-eight) recovered first, stepping forward. "My name is Jaxon Smith and this is my brother Jake we're-"

The Bat cut him off abruptly, "How is it you came upon these… young ones."

"We rescued them-"

"From what?" He did not allow them the chance to formulate lies, the fewer pauses left for their scheming minds, the better. That was, until his eldest stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, boys, my father has been feeling ill as of late and…"

Tim stepped forward next, "Yes, our father been having some trouble with trust as of late…" Tim continued on, but Batman had noticed something that would have been lost on his weaker alter ego. At the mention of "our father" The taller of the two had visibly flinched. The man had recovered quickly, but the split-second of pain was obviously a reaction to the information… "our father"…. Why would a man his age (The Bat approximated twenty-three by his stance) respond to those words in particular? Perhaps a falling out with his own parents had led him to some darker path. Perhaps a nefarious path.

He would need to do some digging on this one. Jason Smith, eh? _We shall see…_

Jax was speaking now. "We may have a bit more to discuss than originally settled on in our phone call. Plus there was an unforeseen… complication."

"What unforeseen complication?" he demanded.

The two before him exchanged a wary glance. "You did not come alone, as expected. This would be easier if you had…" It was all clicking into place. The downtrodden and confused looks on the children's faces, the two's obsession with privacy and hidden identities. This was a trafficking operation, he concluded.

The taller of the two stepped in front of Jax who nodded silently as he did so. He placed the child on the ground and then lifting his hand to his face as if to remove the mask.

As the two groups stared each other down, tension quickly began to escalate, their senses were dulled. Not one of them heard the glass being broken upstairs, nor did they hear the quiet steps of numerous uniformed men surrounding their location.

…

Jason could not the shock that had taken him when the unknown boy had stepped forward claiming familial ties to his father. But he had gotten over that, had accepted it. After all, Jason would be a hypocrite to say that Bruce should not be allowed to replace him in the Bat's makeshift family when Jason had formed a family of his own without Bruce. Nonetheless, as he stepped forward now to reveal himself he noted the knot in his chest had tightened and vaguely, just on the edge of his mind, he noted that the air pressure in the room had changed and that something was very wrong. Kaiser was nowhere in sight. In hindsight, that should have been his first clue, but you know what they say. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

The bullet entered his chest and then all Jason could see was red and black. He remembered thinking how glad he was that he had put Damian down off to his left rather than straight in front of him.

…

The chaos of the moment set in quickly, Jaxon was in movement without thinking. He screamed at the children to take cover before pitching several throwing knives toward the source of the shooting. He caught sight of their uniforms and his mind was filled with a sense of dread. Kor Hol was still alive. The organization had sent men to retrieve them.

Jax spared a glance back at the door where the Wayne family had been standing only to see it vacated. He let out a battle cry of pure rage before lashing out his twin semi-auto handguns. They would pay for this. He noted that Kaiser was weaving between the men, taking them down swiftly, that meant headshots would be safest.

Jax let each kickback lead to the next shot and his targets fell like flies to the swatter. The older children that had recovered from their initial shock had joined the battle as well and began blocking off the stairs. One less point to watch. He continued to loose bullets with almost imperceptible speed until he glimpsed green and red out of the corner of is eye. A metal object inserted itself into the barrel and suddenly he was glad the suite came with gloves. The barrel exploded and he shrieked in surprise more than pain. His anger took hold and he looked for the source of the metal. Before him stood Batman, Robin, and Nightwing fully prepared for battle.

"Whose side are you on, assholes?" He roared over the fighting. Holding his injured hand Jax finally spared a glance at his brother. The kid was putting pressure on his wound, trying in vain to slow the bleeding. He gasped a ragged breath as the image of the crumpled form he had found on that warehouse floor danced before his eyes.

He turned back to the caped crusaders and let out a cruel smile, tossing the ruined and empty guns in his hands. " s'okay. I got more." Swiftly he withdrew two more guns from the cases below the others. And shot at the feet of the Bat family. He'd have to kill – or rather, take down – the men under their code from here on in. Now more kill shots. What a damn shame. Wasted bullets, if you asked him.

The family eyed him suspiciously, "Help me fight them you fools! I promise, no more KOs." They nodded and collectively both families turned to face the attackers. Except there were none. The men had disappeared as quickly as they had come.

"SHIT." Jax turned to his brother and knelt before him. "Call an ambulance!" He snarled. Batman approached him cautiously. "Damnit, Bruce, stop stalling!" He screamed, the fear creeping into his voice now that the adrenaline and blood lust had filtered out. The man stepped back, obviously stunned that this stranger knew his identity.

"They are on their way." The youngest, the one in the… oh shit. The robin costume. Jason would probably be upset about that. If he lived…

Jax felt tears running down his face and the mask was in his way now. He ripped it off and threw it away from the general area. "Kid, I need you to move. Now." He scooted the child towards the Bats who took him up immediately and handed him to Dick. Jax moved closer to Jason, he applied pressure to the wound. That's when he heard it. He heard his little brother's chest heave one last labored breath before collapsing into utter stillness.

…

Bruce stood awkwardly behind the man, Jax, as he shuffled closer to his brother. The little boy had been taken away to stand with the other children as Tim and Dick corralled them together.

The boy screamed and began to cry great and ragged sobs. "NO! We were supposed to be a family. You promised! You Promised, Jay!" Bruce's heart connected with the child's. Conceivably the two were related. The man's son, perhaps…

Nonetheless, When Jax had hefted his mask off to the side the father in him had come forth. That face… the eyes… they were Jason's. there couldn't be a mistake. Could there? After so much time He was ashamed to say the face of the lost Robin had gotten foggy… That pain, however, had not. Perhaps he was just projecting what he wanted (needed) to see on this man. The Bat knew it was not so, Jax genuinely had features too similar to Jason's to be coincidental. Bruce Wayne, still grief-stricken, would not see this though and chose instead to ignore the incessant voice of his alter.

And then the boy stopped breathing… The room seemed to still and the world stopped turning. The bullet had gone to the upper left of the heart; it should have missed anything vital. Why wasn't he _breathing_.

Jax turned back to Bruce and screamed at him and his family to wait for the ambulance. For once, the Bat did as he was commanded and left just as the brother began CPR. As the Batman walked out the door, Jason's mask was lifted off and cast aside. His father had just narrowly missed the view of his wayward son.

…

As they stood outside Robin pulled the Bat's attention to him. "We need to be gone when the ambulance arrives. Perhaps we will arrive at the hospital later, but Batman, Robin, and Nightwing _cannot _be in London the same time the three of us are." Tim whispered quickly. The Dark Knight nodded stiffly.

Of course, he knew that simple fact, had thought of it much earlier on when they had rushed to the car to don their suites in the first place. Something inside him wanted to stay with the boy, the one who had been shot, but overall Tim had knocked that paternal instinct to the back of his mind. The three moved to the rented limo quickly and began to change into their civvies. When they emerged from the seats the ambulance had arrived. After slyly asking to which hospital the vehicle belonged, the Bat family was off. Again, the father resisted the urge to look back on the scenes. The two brothers had certainly piqued his interest… and the protective predisposition of both Bruce Wayne and his darker alter.

If Mr. Wayne had looked in the rear view mirror he would have seen the ambulance pack up to leave empty handed. If he would have looked in the building he had just occupied he would find nothing but sickening blood stains. If he had been the Batman just then, the billionaire would have seen men cloaked all in black carrying a fallen Robin farther away from him.

**He he, well, what did you guys think? I've got so much more planned yet…. *evil laugh* **

**REVIEW!**


	6. Static

**OK… Next chapter, and I must warn y'all that there will be character death in the upcoming chapters…. But who will die? He he. Keep reading and reviewing and you'll find out. ^^**

**ONWARD!**

Chapter 6

His father used to beat him. Not to come across as, well, damaged, but it was the truth. Willis Todd could be very violent when drunk. Now, obviously, you're all thinking "What a pussy", right? "What, the infamous Jason Todd couldn't take a few hits as a kid?" And Jason didn't quite mind if you thought that. Right now, he was more focused on this one time – well, he didn't really want to think about it. But there it was, completely blindsiding him. He was thinking about the time his father had brought home a steel base-ball bat with the idea of giving it to his son to make up for the nights of beatings. Of course, young Jason had never been given the opportunity to use it himself. That night his father had taken the bat to his son in an unrelenting attack almost as horrifying as the round the joker had made on him… thinking back the metal flashed in the same way, the motion of beating someone half to death must attract the light in the same way.

The man he had been biologically related too had beaten him to a bloody pulp right up until the day he had disappeared. Until the day Jason's mother – his real mother – Catherine Todd had stood up to the man. Jason had to give the man credit, at least in his stupors he had never hit Catherine. Maybe that was just because he stood in the way all the time... But that day the man who was hid biological father had left and Jason had been forced to work the streets for abandoned – or otherwise not-so-abandoned – tires. Anyways, where was he going with this? Oh right, the pain. That would be an improvement right now. Although, the time with the Joker may have been a little worse than this. But only a little. Sure the abuse at Kor Hol had been extensive, but that was expected, routine, and perfectly acceptable in his mind.

Jason silently assessed his position, and his body's condition. He noted that he had been sliced up a bit around the chest area. On the arms, deep gashes that would probably leave more scars. The bullet wound was what hurt the most though. This was why he hated shoulder wounds. The cutting meant this was a personal attack. Whoever had added the sores to Jason's rapidly growing repertoire of "worst hits ever" obviously had some negative emotions to work through. How cute. Maybe he could council whoever it was with a baseball bat. He sighed, wincing as his lungs hit his apparently broken or otherwise splintered ribs. He opened his eyes slowly, assessing his outward situation. He was somewhere dark.

_Wow. What an extensive report Captain Obvious_. He thought to himself. But it was true, where he was there was no light. The darkness was not so bad, except for the craziness associated with it. His sense of time was lost, and that was a vital thing to be bereft of. He found himself wishing, not for the first time, that Bruce were here. He missed his father… his _real_ father in any way that counted… He closed his eyes in silent prayer to all the gods he didn't believe in. "_what's a guy gotta do for some light?" _he thought.

He was blinded by light. He scrunched his brow together and looked upwards sardonically. "_And let me guess, I only get one wish, right? No offense, but you guys suck."_

The light slowly dimmed, or maybe he was just adjusting to it. Someone stood before him, no, maybe they were sitting. In any case Jason mumbled a semi-silent protest as he realized who it was: Jax.

…

Jax raised his head slowly. Everything hurt. He tried to open his eyes beyond the fog slowing down his thought process. When he finally achieved that he saw that his little brother sat before him. "_shit," _He thought.

Something dragged at him, it weighed him down until he felt he could go no further without speaking the words he had planned to long ago. He let them tumble from his lips clearly and concisely. "Jason, can you hear me?" Jason opened his eyes to stare at his brother. "I need for you to do something for me… You have to swear to me you'll do it." Jason looked at him quizzically, but nodded for him to continue. He took a deep breath, well, as deeply as he could. "When you get out of here I want you to go home, Jay. Go home to your family. Don't ruin what you have, don't let the anger and resentment boil up. You have to build something, not break it. Like you did with me in the middle east…" He let his words trail off. He would force Jason to return to them if it was the last thing he did. "I want you to feel loved… please, promise me, brother…"

Jason stared at him for a long moment before relinquishing his answer. A single tear swept down his face. "I promise. But you'll be there with me…"

"Even if I'm not. You have to have a good life. Live for both of us." Jax choked back a sob. The men of Kor Hol would be back soon, but, he hoped, so would the Bat. Before letting the Dark Knight depart he had planted a device on the man that would allow him to track to boys if he so chose.

Jason nodded sadly. The door opened. Two men walked in the room, changing the atmosphere dramatically. They emanated power and fury and Jax felt his heart sink.

"Hey little jax-in-the-box!" they laughed hysterically while the brothers turned menacing glares on both of them. They were ugly, muscular, and bald. The first one's accent sounded Russian, which meant they were definitely with Kor Hol. Like twins they moved in sync and soon stood before the boys. "Did you know, Jaxy, that your whore of a mother sold you on the black market?"

Jax's eyes widened and he let out a sputtered half-cry-half-scream as a knife was lowered into his abdomen. He spat curses at them in as many languages as he knew. The other bald one stabbed a knife into Jason's chair, probably meaning to scare him. Jason wasn't afraid. He was furious. He hastily used the knife to cut his ropes, cutting his hands in the process, but he was determined and wouldn't let pain stand in his way. He moved quickly between the two creatures – and he called them creatures because that's all they could be. As he was trained he brought them down in mere moments. He hadn't killed them, but they would be down for quite a while.

Jax never knew how much knowing the truth could be painful. He had thought all this time that his mother had simply lost him, that maybe, maybe he had been kidnapped. But no. _sold_. He wondered vaguely how much she had gotten for her little bundle of joy.

One of the brothers who lay writhing on the floor screamed at him. "She told her boyfriend the baby died and that they would have another one later. Will todd was such a fuck-up he believed her." The creature smiled. "When he found out he took the second boy away, but he never forgave her." He laughed painfully.

Jax stared at him with a mixture of hate and unfeeling rage. He also felt pity. He looked at his brother who stared back at him steadily. Yes, the anger was matched there. The pain was there also. Jax crouched down near the one that had spoken. "Tell me you little _zasranec_," he spat the Russian insult, "Tell me where the kids are."

The man looked at him with blind fury and hate. Jason pulled the release on his gun. Vaguely Jax wondered where his brother had gotten it. Jason spoke now. "Tell us or we'll put your brother down, maybe we'll shoot all the un-vital shit first, y'know, make him suffer while you wait around." He clicked the safety off, ready to fire.

The man sputtered, spitting out the information they needed. "down the hall two left turns down! You'll see a red door, they will be there." Jason squeezed the trigger twice.

…

Damian wasn't sure where he was. He felt nauseated and homesick. He wanted Jason to be with him. He had promised they would be a family, and that was something the little boy sorely missed. He remembered his mother flashes. He remembered her saying he was a nuisance when he would come around, he remembered receiving an endless line of tutors right up until the day he had been taken away… And the next thing he remembered was himself crying and feeling so utterly alone that he never wanted to feel again… But then Jason had been there on that miserable first night at Kor Hol. The two had shared a cell briefly and Jason had comforted him.

"_Hey, why are you crying hid?" He had asked quietly. The little boy looked at the older one stiffly. The boy was only four. _

"_I…" he sniffed, "I want to go home…" He had cried harder, it wasn't what he had wanted to say, after all, his 'home' was no different than this place. He meant to say "I want to _find _a home," but it had come out all wrong. Jason seemed to understand._

"_You're not alone, kid… You'll never be alone as long as I can… help it." The older boy was awkward and stumbled through the words, but Damian didn't care. They were comforting nonetheless. Damian had hugged the older boy who had tensed up in response, but eventually held him close. Damian couldn't remember if he had ever been hugged before in his short life… it felt… nice, to be wanted._

But now Jason wasn't here and Damian had to think of a way out. The door before his was red, and sealed. They would not get out through there. The other children around him seemed to be waking. His wrists were tied tightly, ripping into his skin when he shifted. A little girl behind him shook her head beginning to come out of the hazy stupor she was in. he surveyed the situation, the guards around them were talking in hushed tones, they would not notice if he maneuvered closer to the girl.

Once that was accomplished he managed to whisper in her ear, "Can you reach behind you and untie me?"

She did not turn around, but Damian felt her hands on his. Soon the ropes were looser and he could wiggle around a bit more, then they were off completely. He began to work on her bindings and then turned to the next one. This one was older with sandy blonde hair and a solid build. He would be useful. Damian began to untie the restraints and soon all the children were free as each child helped the others. When the guards turned back around the children stood up as one.

That was when the sound of two gun shots reverberated through the room. The guard knelt the ground and aimed their weapons at the children. But they were too slow, before Damian could even form a full thought of action the red door was opened and the guards were dead. There standing before him was Jason Todd and Jaxon Haywood. He smiled, so there were happy endings after all. Who knew?

…

Jason knelt to the ground as Damian ran to him. He let out a weak cry of protest as the boy embraced him – right on his broken ribs. He didn't mind too much thought, the kid was Bruce's son after all.

"Hey little D." The boy smiled brightly

"Is that a… nickname?" He asked.

"Yeah, I heard you called me Jay so you may as well have one too."

"not to interrupt or anything, but we need to get out of here." Jax said in a hoarse whisper. He let out a wet cough and clutched at the area he had been stabbed. Jason stood immediately. He wrapped his arm around Jax's waist and pulled the older man's arm around his shoulder, taking on most of his weight.

"Let's go kids, we need to get out of here. Now." He commanded. Damian followed close beside him, holding onto his suit like the frightened child he was.

They followed him through the door and were a silent support system when his brother was barely able to walk at all.

Jason barely registered that they had made it to an abandoned warehouse near the edge of the property. He barely noticed that inside there was a table, which Jason gingerly laid his brother on. Jason let out a wet cough, but he felt no tears come at Jax's expense.

His brother would live. He… he had to. He applied pressure to the wound, but there were no bandages and even so, Jason's own wounds were leaking blood faster than he could hope to stop. The world was getting fuzzy around the edges of his vision and nightmares of death closed in on him.

When he fell to the floor and could not get back up, it was no surprise to him. When his brother's labored breathing slowed down and then could not be heard, it was still no surprise. What did surprise him were the giant wings of what looked like a bat bearing down on his position.

_Let him live_ he thought distantly, _Let him live, let me die… like I was meant to all those years ago… _

_Not today, little brother. _He heard the whisper in his head, but refused to accept the words. _Death will _not _touch you. This I swear… _the words faded out and Jason felt the tears come now, felt them stain his hair, felt them run ragged tracks down his face. He felt his brother slip from the room. Later he would wonder if he had heard the voice at all, or if it had just been in his dreams.

REVIEW!


	7. Wake Up Call

**Hey guys, I'm sorry ahead of time. This is one of those "boring, but necessary" chapters. I think this is one of the chapters I'm not too thrilled about, but it needs to be in here to get to the exciting part. *sigh* I also apologize to anyone that was hoping to see the female Robins in this, I just don't know enough about their characters to write them well. Damian's character will begin to surface soon, though so be prepared. (Be patient, he's only five after all ;)**

**ONWARD….**

Chapter 7

When Bruce and his sons had arrived at the hospital they sat in the small waiting area. After an hour had passed he asked about the boys he had seen.

The nurse looked at him, apparently wondering if he was joking. After watching him glare at her for a few moments she answered, "There have been no bullet wounds reported at this hospital, sir. Nor have there been any reported elsewhere for the day."

The sinking feeling in his stomach had only gotten worse from that. He had run out of the waiting room, run strait to the car. Once inside he rummaged through his suit, trying to get to the underside. He'd noticed the boy plant something on him.

When the billionaire retrieved the device it was a GPS tracking device and showed a blinking light towards the outskirts of town.

"Dad?" It was Dick, Tim was just behind him.

"Suit up. We've got a problem that needs solving."

They looked at him confusedly for a moment, but the urgency in his tone spurred them into movement. They got in the limo and the three-member family became Batman, Robin, and Nightwing.

By the time they had arrived on the small landing platform it was night. The Batman surveyed the area before turning back to the GPS. The boys followed him silently as he entered the building.

The bat noted two to three military-grade helicopters preparing to land in the distance, but ignored them in favor of following the device. The Bat family entered the first warehouse near them and noticed immediately how elaborate the building actually was. It had pods connecting this warehouse to all the others nearby, making it a sort of militaristic base. It appeared the building was empty. No guards? Something was wrong. That was when he heard the echo of two gunshots. He ran in the direction of them.

They had heard them in the farthest part of the building from them. They followed the corridors to a room that was also the source of the tracker, or where the source _had _been. Whoever had it planted on them had moved now… but something beckoned him to go inside. When he opened the door he heard a ragged gasp. There were two men splayed on the floor, blood coated the surrounding area. Batman surveyed the scene silently. The gunshots had been nonlethal, only two shoulder shots. He sighed inwardly as his sons stepped up beside him.

"Take care of them, I'm going to find the source of this tracking device." He did not wait to hear their compliance.

Batman turned and walked out the door and followed the blinking light on screen to a red door, it was broken open from a great deal of pressure. Inside he found many small spans of rope spread across the floor, someone had been tied up here. Multiple someones. By the size and knotting the ties were made for smaller hands… The children had been taken here. But why leave any evidence? It made no sense, unless… unless the children had broken free. Where were the guards… No bodies either. There were blood stains on the far side, but no real indication of any greater struggle.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, once again determined to follow the frenetic beeping of the monitor in his hands.

His next trip brought him out of the warehouse-building and towards the outer edge of the property. There were tracks of bloody footprints all along the way. The Dark Knight picked up his pace until he was almost running. Then the shack came into view. The doors had been thrown open.

He walked inside and what he saw struck out at his heartstrings. He had found the children; all were bowing their small heads to a figure that lay in the center. Jax. His suit was soaked in blood and the Bat could make out no discernible sign of airflow making it to the man's lungs. He rushed forward into the room, telling the children to step aside and that he could help. They were reluctant to be shaken from their fallen hero at first, but moved aside when the eldest ones corralled them out of the way.

"How long has he been like this?" He asked even as he checked for a pulse he knew wouldn't be there. He wondered if this is what Jason would have looked like… if he had found a body… His heart pounded in his ears and pain tore at his heart. His mind kept screaming _my son, my son!_

"Since the lady came…"

Batman's blood turned cold. He looked around, the younger brother was not here. There was blood soaking into the floor, but Jax's brother _wasn't here._

"What lady?" He asked, more harshly than he had intended. "Where is the younger one? This man's brother?"

They gave him scared and miserable glances, but none stepped forward to answer him.

"Tell me!" He yelled at them, again, unintentionally.

"The- the woman came, said she could save Jay… she took Little D too… Because he wouldn't leave Jay alone…" One sandy-haired boy finally responded.

Batman let his pain flow out in one ragged breath. He was too late to save Jax or Jax's family, but Bruce Wayne would make sure to save _this _part of their clan. Bruce Wayne would find homes for all of them. He would keep an eye out in the news for this – Jake Smith. For the second time in his life, Batman had arrived too late to be of any use to the people that mattered to him. This failure crushed him the way every other failure did and his heart bled for his own family. He would bring this Jaxon back to the states with him. He would bury this boy next to his own….

…

Jason felt it when they landed, he wasn't sure when he had taken off, but the jolt was unmistakable. Something warm was pressed into his side. He tensed, ready to throw it off. When he opened his eyes he softened. It was Little D… the boy was with him and… where was Jax? He let out a strangled sob as he remembered.

Damian opened his eyes slowly. The deep blue of the boy's eyes was just like Bruce's. He couldn't help it; Jason smiled a crooked little grin.

"Good morning boys." A woman's voice spoke from the other side of the room- err… helicopter.

Jason couldn't help himself; he glared at the woman menacingly. "Talia," he spat.

The woman sauntered towards them. "Little Prince, come to mother." She waived at her son. Damian stood, slightly leaning towards Jason.

"No, I want to stay with my brother." Jason huffed proudly and Talia's eyes widened. Then something nipped at her hand, before the black-gold blur was at his side. Jason sat up unsteadily, putting his hand on Kaiser's back for support.

"don't worry, Little D, go to her. She might turn into a vampire monster if you don't." Damian's eyes widened at the thought of his mother as a creature of the night… Well, it wasn't _that_ hard to imagine.

"I wouldn't have brought that animal if possible. Be glad it is with you." She looked on the creature with a mix of hate and anxiety.

"I'm guessing you're a cat person." Jason mumbled. Damian giggled quietly and Talia clicked her tung in annoyance. Damian, innocently mimicked the sound.

"Look, I wouldn't have helped you if Damian hadn't insisted. Once you're healed I want you off my property. Got it?" her words were harsh, but her overall tone was softer.

"Well, thanks Tali." He winked at her and got to his feet. Pressing past the dizziness in his head he moved towards her. She seemed unsettled, but when he offered his hand in silent impasse, she took it immediately. Despite her ways it was obvious she regarded Damian in a fair-kinda-sorta-motherly way.

"Why don't you go in the house- err… mansion, Little D. Take Kaiser." He waived them on, when both his best friend (the wolf) and Damian hesitated. When they were out of earshot Jason turned his attention back to the woman.

"So, you and Bruce, eh?" He laughed humorlessly at her uneasiness. "Look, I wanted to ask you for a few bonus favors. If you want me to leave quietly you'll comply." There was not threat in his tone, only the undertone of a promise. Talia picked up on it right away. She nodded sternly.

"What do you need?" She smiled.

He gestured to his costume, "I need you to modify my equipment, and," He flashed a wicked smirk, "I'm gonna need a helmet, a red helmet."

**You know what to do. **

**.….**

…

**.**


	8. Bitter Sweet Memories

**All tight, next chapter. Now, the idea of Jason's past that I'm working from is the he had a rough start and had a hard time getting on his feet, the death of his mother is what pushed him to be stronger than he was. I'm also assuming his mother over dosed on pills. Kay? If you have a problem with this, please let me know in a ****review****… **

Chapter 8

It had been about a month here at the Al Ghul family home – well, mansion. It's not that the whole hospitality thing wasn't awesome – it wasn't – but Jason was growing stir crazy. The demon lady (Talia) hadn't spoken to him other than to tell him his 'order' would be ready within the next few weeks or so. He was actually quite proud of himself, the design was _so_ original. _Right, 'cause you only updated the outfit to include a jacket, a red bat on the chest, and a red hood. _Very _original, Jay._

He smiled in spite of himself. Damian had refused to sleep in his old bedroom, instead insisting on being placed across the hall from Jason. Kaiser, obviously, had taken up his station on a pile of pillows in the corner of Jason's room. Occasionally the three of them would travel out of the mansion to the snowy country side, though they were never without supervision. Jason could have killed all the guards with them, but he actually did want that updated suit… So, here he was. He let out a heavy and frustrated breath.

He had "acquired" a laptop from Talia's stores and was doing some detective-ing of his own. He had narrowed down the search for which of the gurus would be coming after him next. He suspected Jacques and Rolan. Bother were notorious for ranged killings, impersonal and detached. He would need to keep an eye out for snipers…

He had also figured out which of the members it had been in London. A woman named Kara, she was still out and about and would probably come after him again, but not this soon. Kor Hol had protocol, once her failure had been reported they would retract her access to their supplies and send another in their ranks… maybe two others. Although… her mission had not exactly been a complete failure. She had murdered Jax. Jason felt fury pool in his chest and his hands clenched into fists. She would have to pay for what she'd done to his family.

Kor Hol's Special Order was mobilizing for something big. They were starting to get sloppy, however. He found bits and pieces, money was being shifted and hitmen had been hired. They were going to come after him. It was just a matter of when they would track him down._ Well Jason, it's been five and a half years, you're twenty years old, and already you've gone from having a bucket full of Gotham psychos to a shitload full of seriously pissed off Russians… Congrats, I'm sure the big man would be proud._

He sighed, backing away from the mahogany desk and laptop. He rubbed at his tired eyes; it had been too long since he had slept. Looking at his four-post bed, the darkening room in general, he wondered why the place was so bare.

"At least I still have you, boy." He turned to Kaiser's corner to see the wolf had already cleared out. Probably to go see Damian. "So much for man's best friend," He snorted.

The rug under his feet was plush and comfortable, it made him want to lie down, but he couldn't sleep now. Something in him was screaming at him to stay awake. It was the feeling he had gotten whenever Kai was tormenting him. In his mind's eye he could see a crow bar hitting the edge of his cell to keep him awake and miserable and _scared_. The demented, laughing figure of Kai would always be with him. Jason had never been the flighty type, but just now his standoffish attitude was faltering. He swallowed the feeling down with the bile that was rising in his throat.

He opened the door to his room and walked into the hallway. The carpet followed him, around him were the gilded edges of walls and doors. Everything in the house was intended for shock-and-awe. It was nothing like Wayne Manor. At his real home in Gotham everything in _that_ mansion had practical use. Here, everything (and he really meant everything, even the golden friggin toilet seats) was set out to impress. Golden statues depicting biblical scenes and figures, an elaborate winding staircase also covered in the red carpet. A glass chandelier, plated with (surprise!) gold hung above the stairs. Downstairs was twice as bad, as that was where Talia Al Ghul would entertain guests…. Which she never had…

To his surprise Talia and Damian stood in the hallway too, both had anger rolling off them in waves. The evidence of a fight marred Damian's face. Talia must have smacked him. She had her hand poised above him for another blow when she noticed him glaring at her and moving forward.

She paused and the anger was focused on him instead. Damian turned pleading eyes on his older brother as he approached. Jason took long strides to meet them. "What's up Little D? What happened?"

Talia spoke for the boy, "You've infected my son's mind with rebellious intentions."

Jason snorted derisively, as he took his final steps toward her. He shifted, unconsciously pushing Damian behind him as Kaiser appeared at his side. The wolf sensed the tension in the room and began to growl intensively at nothing in particular.

Talia glared at the two brothers. "You're suit is done to your specifications. The weapons and your blasted helmet are down stairs and in the vault. You know the code, boy. You've overstayed your welcome. Now it's time to leave."

Jason's face never changed, he remained stoic and for a moment Talia's eyes softened. "you're more like your father than you know, Jason."

Jason opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as something sparked on the edge of his vision. His eyes widened. "Get down!" He howled, swiftly spinning to take Damian into his arms as the window shattered. The bullet missed Jason and Damian, but struck Talia. Straight in the heart. Her eyes glittered with a single, silent command; _take my son and run!_

Suddenly screams erupted and the man was in movement. Jason pulled his brother onto his back and got up in one fluid motion. Kaiser rushed ahead of them, knocking any and all obstacles out of the way as the family descended the winding staircase two steps at a time. He had to get his new equipment before all hell broke loose. The Firefight had only just begun. Talia's men were engaged with the members of Kor Hol, Jason hoped they would be enough of a distraction for the brothers to prepare.

When they reached the door to the vault, he numbly entered the code and rushed into the weapons room. Setting Damian down he took a moment to admire the weapons. They lined the walls and Jason looked for an instant like a kid in a candy store. Ak-47s, 357 Magnums, automatic handguns, silencers, swords, throwing knives, and oh _sweet Gotham_ Jason Todd thought he'd died and gone to heaven. The metal table in the center of the room held a silver clad briefcase, he opened it in seconds. He raised a gleaming red helmet above his head like a trophy won after a long and bitter struggle. The white lenses of the mask glared back at him and Jason smiled in spite of himself.

"Get dressed, Little D, I really think we've _really _overstayed our welcome now." He turned to see the boy standing in the corner, eyes forlorn and dull. Jason walked to his brother and put his hands on the little one's shoulders. "Hey, I'm here. You and I'll be safe, we'll make it out of here just fine." His words came out in a soothing tone, one that surprised himself.

"My mom… she's dead… she's…" Tears dripped from his eyes. "I never wanted her to die…" Heavy sobs racked through the boy and Jason held his brother steadily. Damian latched onto Jason's much larger frame as his tears subsided. Later, the little one would realize that Jason's shoulders had been trembling as well…

Jason shook the feeling out of him; he did what he did every time he felt overwhelmed by emotion. He compartmentalized his pain to be dispelled at a later time. "It's all right, Dami. But right now, we have to get out of here. I need for you to be strong. For your mom and for me." Kaiser was what finally did it, the wolf howling a sad tune and licking the boy's face. Damian grabbed two twin blades and set them aside before changing. Not another word was exchanged between them.

When the brothers emerged from the vault they were both wearing Kevlar body suits. Jason wore the persona of the Red Hood, his grey outfit held the red symbol of the bat over his steadily beating heart. Over the suit Jason had added a brown leather Jacket that had been packed to the standards of a city's armory. The white slits in the helmet faced the world with a white-visor glare. Everything fit perfectly to his specifications.

Damian had, in the time since coming to the mansion renovated his suit as well (with Jason's help). The black of the Kevlar shone under a shirt of colored red and yellow fabric. the black of the Kevlar continued to meet his black boots. The design was reminiscent of Robin's. However, this design was intended to be much more deadly. He had taken a brown hooded cloak and wrapped it around himself. A black-red domino mask hid his eye color while the cloak provided a shadow over his face. The boy had just had his sixth birthday and already he was ready to kill, plunder, and… kill. Almost brings tears to the eyes.

Kaiser followed at Jason's heels. The wolf let out a low snarl, warning the boys that danger was around the corner. The man that stepped out from the safety of the wall was down immediately and all that was heard was the resonance of a gunshot.

"I call the next one," Damian yelled before rushing forward. Jason was on him in moments and the brothers were in the middle of a deadly whirlwind of blades and gunshots. It would be a long night and the bodies were already piling up.

…

Bruce Wayne watched as the casket was lowered into the ground next to his son's. he'd done some research and found no paper trail for any man named Jaxon Smith, his fingerprints were not on file under any state. This man was invisible. Bruce entertained the possibility that the boy had been a victim of kidnapping, taken early in life for some nefarious purpose. He had taken a blood sample and was running it in the Cave; however, with nothing to match it to the analysis may take a while.

He looked at the gravesite, but the billionaire couldn't help that his eyes kept wandering to Jason's headstone. The pain was still there, resting just below the surface. As always, he compartmentalized it, keeping his sanity intact. In his mind he kept being drawn back to the color of Jax's eyes, how similar they had been to Jason's… Something was screaming at him in the back of his mind, but he chose to ignore them in favor of watching the grave. He heard the footsteps approaching, but paid them no mind until his first partner stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

"You know, you still haven't declared Jason… legally gone." Dick decided to come straight to the point, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

"And I won't. Not until I see a body." Bruce said noncommittally.

"My God, you still think he's alive, don't you?" Dick turned to face his father-figure.

Bruce looked down sadly, gathering a breath into his lungs. "I don't know, Dick," and his words held the weight of false hope.

Dick opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He gathered his thoughts even as Bruce began to move away from the fresh gravesite. "Bruce." The man turned to face his son. "Tim left the manor yesterday, he said you two had a bad fight. What happened?"

Bruce stared at his oldest for a moment. He blinked, "That's none of your concern." Something on the older man's face said he was lying, hoping Dick would dig deeper.

"Bruce, he said it was about Jason. I have a right to know." Dick waited.

"I… I think Jason's trying to tell me something." Uncertainty – an emotion Bruce did not feel often – surfaced and it showed in his eyes.

"But, you think he's dead."

"Yes." Bruce shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it.

"So, let me get this straight. You think Jason left some unclear message before he died and now you're trying to follow it?" Dick asked incredulously.

"That boy," Bruce gestured to Jax's grave, "He has some sort of connection to Jason, I know it."

"How? How could they possibly be related?" Dick's confusion deepened. He stared at Bruce with bright blue eyes.

"We'll have to wait and see…"

"No! Damnit, Bruce! Stop giving my fucking half answers!" Dick interrupted.

"Come with me." Bruce turned on his heel and walked away from the cemetery, his eldest muttering curses, but following. When they reached the manor, Bruce led them directly to the Cave, once downstairs Bruce froze. Dick ran straight into the older man. Both men stared wide eyed at the flashing signal.

On the Bat Computer the words "Match Found". A picture of Jax was placed side by side with pictures of Sheila Haywood and Willis Todd.

"Jason Todd had a Blood Brother." They said at the same time. Then, simultaneously they pull up the image of the man that had been in the room that day claiming to be Jax's brother.

"Jason…" Bruce whispered, the pain weighing down his body and mind eased up and he felt like he was breathing his first breath of fresh air in years.

…

Jason wasn't sure when it had materialized. First his brother and him were fighting side by side, the next he was on the ground gasping for air. The mansion was in flames. An RPG. The assholes were playing dirty!

He searched among the debris and the burning home but could see no sign of Damian. Jason shook his head to clear it, and then spotted his brother lying face down on the floor. The boy was cut to hell, but alive. Kaiser was just behind them, recovering from the blast as well. Jason grabbed Damian by the waist and pulled him towards the nearest window. Holding the boy close, he jumped. The drop wasn't bad, maybe two stories. Jason rolled with the fall and absorbed most of the damage to his knees.

They would be all right. He hugged the small boy in his arms tightly against him. The shallow breaths alerted the older brother that the younger was still breathing. Kaiser circled the window above whining at the drop, Jason put the boy down in the snow before reaching out to catch the wolf. His small family was all here. He brought in a ragged breath and tried to slow his frantic heartbeat.

Helicopters took off from overhead and Jason had to get moving. He lifted the vulnerable form of his little brother back into his arms. There would be no escape in the skies tonight. Their safe harbor would have to be the woods. Jason felt fear grip his heart once more and he prayed that at the very least Damian would live through this to meet Bruce.

It was cold here. The snow fell at a constant and unforgiving rate. Jason began to shiver violently about half way through the journey. After walking roughly a mile they found their destination: an old, large and hollowed out tree. The three squeezed inside. It was a tight fit, but that was better for the freezing temperatures.

Now that they sat still the winter was brutal, and Jason found himself huddling close to Kaiser. He made sure that Damian was pressed firmly between the warm bodies of both himself and the wolf. The two formed a circle of body heat around the unconscious child. He hoped it would be enough. Jason waited until he could no longer stop himself and he fell into restless sleep. The nightmares were waiting for him and he felt the fear rush up to meet them.

…

It was late at night when Jason awoke to muffled cries. He was actually more surprised with the fact that they weren't coming from him. Damian was trembling and whimpering heartbreakingly. Jason felt cold, the ground was sapping his energy, but Jason moved past it and used his arm to pull the boy close to his chest. Damian's soft crying slowed and then stopped and Jason felt right. He let out a shaky breath before falling once again into the blackness of his mind, this time though his dreams were lighter.

_Thunder crashed and roared overhead and an eight year old Jason lay on his new bed crying. Bruce had adopted him a week ago. Though he would never admit it out loud, Jason missed his mother. On nights like this, when the roof was leaking and water soaked him and Catherine Todd both, she would hold him close. She would hum to him, and he missed her so much. Each crack of thunder reminded him of the blows he received from his father; every rain drop reminded him of his mother's voice whispering that it would be all right. It wouldn't be though because his mother had killed herself and Jason was in a lonely and scary place with no one to hug him and say they loved him. _

_Jason turned his face to the pillow that didn't smell like his mother, he cried into the bed that wasn't his mother's, and he was afraid because none of it was like her. Jason couldn't take it anymore. He sprang out of bed and opened the window in the room that wasn't his room. The rain was hard on his small face, but he pressed on. He left the manor and ran away as fast as his legs could take him._

_When he arrived in crime alley it was pouring down even harder than before, if that was possible, and each bolt of lightning made the boy flinch. He ran to his mother's apartment and opened the window. The room was soaked, just like he remembered. And he walked to the worn and lumpy mattress on the floor. He sat down and then laid down on his back. The bed no longer held his mother's warmth, it no longer held her scent, and it no longer held her soft, raspy voice and Jason cried. He was cold, wet, tired, and broken down beyond his limit. He shivered and trembled, but couldn't feel anything but crushing sadness. No arms to wrap themselves around his small frame, no love to keep him going._

_Jason couldn't remember the exact moment when he realized that he wasn't alone anymore, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He closed his eyes and continued to cry ragged sobs. He knew he should be stronger than this, but… he couldn't be that strong, not yet._

"_Jason?" He stiffened, what was the big guy doing here?_

_The little boy turned to look into Bruce's too-blue eyes. The man was angry, no – upset. "You're soaked, you had Alfred and I worried to death. We thought something had happened to you…" He paused when Jason turned back over, leaving his back facing the man. After a few moments, Bruce approached._

_He sat on the edge of the rickety, rain-drenched mattress and pulled Jason up into his arms. The little boy had fallen into unconsciousness, too exhausted to even keep his eyes open. _

_When they arrived back at the manor, Bruce laid out new pajamas for Jason and let the boy get changed. When he walked back into the room, Jason was sitting back in bed wiping at unshed tears._

"_What happened?" Jason didn't look at him._

_Jason felt like saying it, getting everything out in the open. He hadn't wanted Bruce to know about his father's drunken hazes, hadn't wanted this man to look at him like all the others. He was tired of being looked at like he was a broken toy. The words came out anyways, "You know, my old man used to beat me to a bloody pulp almost every night. and my mom'd come up after and make me feel like it was ok. It wasn't, it was never ok, but she made me feel like she actually cared. During storms she'd hum this little song and keep me warm, I loved my mom… I loved her, but she… she still killed herself with the fucking pills." The tears came unbidden now, he was waiting for Bruce to move away, but suddenly Jason wasn't alone anymore. Bruce held him in a warm embrace that was laced with protectiveness. He couldn't make up in his mind if this was what he had wanted or not._

"_do you mind if I stay with you for the storm, Jason?" The question was innocent, and gave Jason the opportunity to make this about Bruce and not himself. It was the right thing to say._

"_well… if, if you really don't like storms either. I guess you can stay." Jason scooted over, allowing room for Bruce to lie down. When he was comfortable, Jason let himself relax. A stroke of thunder led Jason to flinch visibly. Bruce put a fatherly arm around him and pulled the little boy against his chest._

"_I've never felt more helpless and alone than when my mom stopped breathing next to me." Jason let his secret out into the air and let them twist and sit there in the night._

_Despite himself Jason felt his body cling to the familiar feeling of a parent nearby. Bruce picked up on the movement. "You're not alone, Jason, you'll never be alone as long as I can help it," Bruce said, bringing the boy impossibly closer. And just like that, Jason felt safe for the first time since the death of his mother._

The words echoed in his head and outside of the dream, Jason remembered summoning the same words to comfort a certain raven-haired little boy in a similar situation.

**Please review guys, I need motivation. O.O**


	9. The Winter months

**All right, here's the next chapter. It's a little shorter than I had intended, but I need to release something. So here it is! Please enjoy. And review after. Please?**

**ONWARD!**

Chapter 9

"He perished in the flames. My security teams saw him burn. I'm sorry, Bruce."

Bruce wasn't sure when it had happened, but suddenly he was on the ground clutching at his heart, and there was just so much _pain_. Bruce had decided to confront Talia Al Ghul, the one they had surmised to take Jason Todd away from the Bat family's grasp. The thought of having to bury the body of him now was like a weight crushing him down. Apparently she had been shot, but was slowly recovering, it had not been easy to track her down.

When he stepped through the doors Dick was there, his face was set in a grim line. "She was lying." Bruce eyes swung upwards to meet the fiery blue of his son's. "I questioned the so-called security team, Jason was here with a little boy, both escaped the flames. However… the reason for the fire, as they said, was that Jason seriously pissed off some Russian group known as 'Kor Hol'. I think he may have been taken to become a member and if that's true…"

"It means he's been subjected to near-torture level training for the past five and a half years all because I couldn't dig to make sure he was _actually_ dead." Bruce growled, more to himself than at his eldest. "It was stupid and careless."

"Bruce, you did what you could, you were messed up after Jason's… disappearance…"

Bruce cut him off, reaching the helicopter he had arrived in, "Stupid and careless!" He drew in a shaky breath. "Why would Talia want to lie." It was phrased like a question, but Dick could tell he didn't want an answer from the younger man.

He answered anyways, "maybe she wants to get to them first, y'know, before the Russians." Bruce looked at his son with pain and determination written clearly on his face.

"Then we need to suit up and start looking." Dick thought that it came out as a battle cry, and it was strange to see that on Bruce's tongue.

Dick laid his hand on his father's shoulder. "We'll make it to him this time."

Bruce prayed that Dick was right

…

Jason was shaking uncontrollably. It was too cold. He had given his jacket to Damian, despite the boy's protests. They were both freezing, Kaiser was ranging out to hunt for the boys, but there had been no luck yet. Vaguely the older man recognized the symptoms of hypothermia setting in. His feet were uneasy, his mind was foggy at best, and the shivering was becoming unbearable. But Damian would be all right. Kaiser would guide the boy to wherever they needed to be.

Jason wasn't sure when it happened, but soon he was on the ground and the trembling had stopped. That was a bad sign. Damian was screaming, kicking, but it would do know good. They had been traveling too long. "Listento m' little D…" The words were slurred and ran together, but Damian caught each one. "Kaiser will lead you to the nearest town. When you get there, call this number," his words were slurred badly, but he made his next ones clear and concise through sheer willpower. "223-455-6791. Repeat that back to me."

"No Jason! You promised we'd be brothers." The child was crying ad huddled close.

"We are, D, but you need to do this." Jason gasped out.

"223-455-6791?"

He smiled, "Thatit little D."

The helicopter was over them in moments and Jason's heart filled with dread. Using the last reserves of his strength he shoved at the boy, pushing him to run. He was proud and happy to see him running away, to see Kaiser meeting him and following the boy, and to see that he would die rather than go back to Kor Hol. He let himself fall into the darkness of his mind. Or at least, he made it look like he did. Jason smirked inwardly, his plan had worked.

A woman, clad with leather, a brown trench coat, and weapons, stood before him now. "Aww, poor baby. I supposed I'll have to put you down, dog." She made the last mistake of her life; she crouched before him, she got too close. With almost imperceptible speed Jason's hands shot out, grabbed Kara's surprised face and twisted until he heard a satisfying CRACK. The woman went limp.

"psh, seriously? I slept on the _streets_. I _lived _in the alleyways in Gotham. You really think a little cold is going to take me down?" He smiled. He took another look at her coat; it looked far too big for her. He took it and put it on himself. Hmm, nice.

Jason whipped out his automatic handgun, then turned to the powered off helicopter. "You best step out quietly, or I'll put one in your laps first." He yelled loud enough for them to hear.

When the door opened, two men came out. They screamed something and all of a sudden three Rottweilers were bounding towards him. _great_. Jason pulled his handguns and started releasing bullets. The first dog hit the ground with a heavy whine, the other two were still coming. Jason stepped back and kept loosing bullets. The fuckers just wouldn't _die._ Jason overestimated the space between them and then the dog was on him. The Rottweiler tackled him to the ground, going for the neck. The second dog took hold of his leg and started shredding. Pain erupted in his body as the dog broke skin. Jason tried in vain to shake the animal off, but the bitch at his throat was more dangerous. Jason let go as the dog on his chest aimed a brutal attack on his face, but he used the opportunity to get his gun in the little bastard's mouth. One bullet made the dog go limp, but the other one was still gnawing at his leg. The gunslinger put all his muscle behind the next kick and the animal was off him. One more bullet and the last dog was dead. "Stay!" He growled at the now-dead dog.

The Hood's leg was bleeding out quickly. The red permeated the pure white snow sickeningly. The contrast was enough to leave a man dizzy. Still, he didn't have time to stop. He pulled his gun to the ready and began to limp slowly towards the copter.

The two men from before stood awestruck at the opening, both pointing their guns warily. "You should seriously consider lowering your weapons before you lose your hands." They turned to each other, and then dropped the pathetic, single-barrel pistols. Jason reached into his pocket and pulled zip ties out. "Tie each other to her," he gestured to a very dead Kara behind him. They walked before him and did as he had asked.

"One down, two to go." The words were cold and impersonal. The other gurus would be in the area.

Jason twisted to face the helicopter once again. He'd come back for it later. First he had to gather his brother and Kaiser. The whistle was earsplitting; the wolf would hear it and guide his brother back to him. He took a deep breath before staggering away from the site of impact.

"Storm's comin'" he whispered to himself, pulling the coat's collar up.

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	10. Timing is Everything

**Yeah… "chapter's late as hell"…. "piece of crap is hardly a couple of paragraphs"… yadda yadda yadda. ^^"**

**Well, here it is nonetheless. I've had the worst case of writer's block these past few days, so here's an update that's a little on the late side. Don't forget to review….**

**I thought I mentioned it, but if not… **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters in this story or the Batman universe. I only own Kaiser, Kor Hol and members of it, Jaxon Haywood, and… that's about it.**

**ONWARD!**

Chapter 10

The cold was not that bad, it just stung his face when he least expected. The gusts of wind were what really hurt. It was bitter and seemed to beat him upside the head.

Kaiser trotted forlornly ahead of the boy, panting from time to time. The wolf seemed unaffected by the weather, which made sense. After all, he was used to the freezing mountain range of Russia. Damian found himself wishing, not for the first time, that Jason were here with him. They made a good team. Damian smiled at the memory of the two fighting their opponents in his mother's mansion.

His mother… the little boy in him cried at the sense of abandonment. The assassin created at Kor Hol rejoiced at the loss of familial ties that could be used against him. Sure, his mother had been cold and calculating, never giving him the love or attention he had wanted, but… well, she had brought him into the world. Despite her failings as a parent, she did genuinely care about his future… as the Al Ghul heir… the boy groaned inwardly. He found himself wondering about the man that had fathered him. Damian wondered what features must have come from the man he had never met. His blue eyes, his hair, his facial features? It passed the time well enough, he supposed.

The wolf stopped, Damian stumbled next to him. Kaiser's ears were perked forward and the animal seemed entranced. He released a low growl that reverberated off the surrounding trees. It was a dangerous sound, one that Damian had heard only one other time. At his mother's mansion. Damian set himself into a defensive position as two black-clad figures stepped out from behind a large oak. The larger of the two, possibly the eldest, wore an outfit with a black bat logo on the front of a Kevlar suit, the other wore all black and had a blue bird symbol across his chest.

Damian wasn't sure why they were dressed so strangely, but his focus changed when he heard the sound. Kaiser turned around, all sings of previous hostility disappeared. The wolf howled a lonely tune and then took off in the direction they had come. Damian didn't hesitate, he set his feet at a dead run after his companion. There was only one man that could make that particular sound. Jason Todd.

Damian noted that the two were following, the footfalls behind him were soft, but obvious. He rolled his eyes, they wouldn't catch him. Damian picked out two smoke pellets and threw them to the ground, at the very least that would distract the men. No they – Damian was pulled to the ground. The line around his ankle pulled taut and the boy fell forward. Damian let out a strangled cry and Kaiser was there, waiting for him. He drew his sword and swiped at the line. The cord splintered and the broke, but the two men were on him. From out of the smoke the two men appeared. Kaiser stepped before Damian and bared his fangs. Damian got to his feet and started running, he didn't have time to face these jokers. Jason needed his brother and Kaiser.

He heard barks and snarls of agitation, the wolf had engaged the two. That meant Damian had at least five minutes until – the boy was jarred to the side, his body held tightly in someone's arms and suddenly Damian was scared.

He frantically kicked and cursed until a hand was placed firmly over his mouth.

"Shh, quiet down, kid. It's me." The familiar voice whispered in his ear. Damian cried out and twisted around to wrap his arms around Jason's neck. The older man laughed quietly and held the boy close. He whistled and the snarls off in the distance stopped abruptly. Kaiser would reach them. Damian let the hope bud in his chest.

Then the two men dropped down in front of them. It looked like the small family wasn't out of the woods yet (literally).

…

Jason stood shell-shocked for a moment. When he had spotted his brother running through the woods with a look of panic on his face, Jason had expected to fight the members of the Special Order. When he had pulled his brother out of the open, he had expected to have a moment of recovery before the bastards were on him. What he hadn't even remotely planned for was a rescue attempt by his father.

His eyes widened behind the mask. Kaiser arrived at his side and began snarling heatedly. Damian turned to the men, but did not relinquish his hold on Jason's hand. The older man smirked behind the red hood.

"Who are you?" Glad to see Bruce hadn't changed. His tone was cold and detached, distant. Yet Jason couldn't imagine hearing anything better than that voice.

"I could kiss you, old man." Jason said, his voice lighthearted, but muffled by the helmet. He released Damian's hand and removed his helmet. The domino mask was still in place.

"Really? Two masks? You're not being a bit overdramatic here?" Dick said, his voice sounded just like Jason remembered. Up-beat and sarcastic, but the overall tone of exuberance was dispersed throughout it.

"ehh, I thought it would add just the right effect to my sudden reappearance." Jason smiled sadly, looking between the two members of his makeshift family. A spasm of Pain wracked through him, his hands flew to his stomach even as he let loose a humorless chuckle.

The two men froze, yes, he could see it in their eyes. They remembered that devil-may-care sound. Jason removed the domino mask. His green eyes shone brightly and he staggered forward, leaning heavily on his left leg. Bruce stepped forward, as did dick. A single tear dripped down Jason's face as he signaled Kaiser to stand down.

"it's you. You were alive all this time…" The whisper was hardly audible over the wind, but Jason picked up on the raw emotion behind it. It was odd, to hear such a mixture of feeling in _that _voice.

"I thought I had time, I thought I could just leave as soon as Jax… and I never meant to hurt you, and I'm sorry, and I'm just so…" Jason gestured to himself wildly, the tears were flowing freely, leaving tracks down his face. His words were soft and quiet, he felt like he was choking on them. "I wanted to come home, but I was just so… so _angry_…" Arms were wrapped around him as he half sat-half collapsed to the ground. The tension, the anger, the pain, the _hate_ was flowing out of him now in the form of wet streaks down his face.

His family surrounded him; Damian had a single small hand on his back, Dick's arm was wrapped around his shoulders, Kaiser nudged his side, and Bruce… Bruce held him tightly in a fatherly embrace as Jason let loose everything he'd left inside to fester for the past five and a half years.

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	11. A Fairytale Ending?

**Writers block sucks…. **

**Anyways, this version has barely been reedited and, yes, is VERY short. Not what I had intended originally, but this is the only way I can post before I leave on vacation. I hope you enjoy, and as always, please review at the bottom… thanks!**

**ONWARD!**

Chapter 11

When the other three stepped away and Jason's grip softened and then released, Bruce found no excuse to continue holding his wayward son. After an added moment, the father stepped away, if only to assess Jason's injuries. The man was bleeding from a wound in the shoulder – he guessed a bullet was the culprit – but that wasn't as severe as the ragged tears in his son's right leg that caused a heavy limp. Something had taken hold and shredded, literally _shredded _his son's leg. Perhaps a dog. He noted that Jason wore holsters for guns and, while it made him uncomfortable to see those weapons strapped to his son, the sight also provided relief knowing Jason was armed and could defend himself.

All affection aside, Bruce couldn't help the question that bubbled to the surface; "did you kill those men back there…?" He let his words become softer before trailing off at the end.

Jason tensed, but his gaze never wavered. "Yes. And if you look about a mile back," He jabbed his finger over Bruce's shoulder, "You'll find the body of a woman, a helicopter full of tied up men, and three dogs that all tried to _kill _me." He spat the last syllable. He definitely caught the note of accusation buried in his father's voice. "And just so you know, it's not _murder_ if it's _self-defense._"

"I know, Jason." And just like that, the two were at a standstill.

Jason was the first to break it. He motioned for the young boy behind him to come forward. "Bruce, I'd like for you to meet someone." Bruce stepped forward and knelt to the ground so he and the boy were eye level before Jason continued, "His name is Damian. He was Talia's son, born a little while after my 'death'." Jason was intimating something… months after his- no. it couldn't be. But the dates matched up too perfectly to be a lie.

"My- my _son_?"

Jason nodded, "This one's by blood though. He should be a bit more important." The words were bitter on his tongue, but he spat them out regardless. Damian was a good kid, and so far Jason had been a good brother to him. Blood or not, they were all family.

At his words Bruce tensed and looked up at Jason with a solemn expression of pain.

"You and Dick have always been my sons. Whether we have ties of blood or not I've never doubted that or gone out of my way to point it out." He looked back at Damian who looked to be lost for a moment. "Hi, Damian. My name is Bruce Wayne, I'm… I'm your father."

The boy stared blankly at him for a moment, unsure of how to react. Bruce made a move to enclose him in strong arms, but the boy stepped away – back into Jason. "Mother said that blood is the only connection important. She said that I would take over my grandfather's empire. My blood is supposed to be pure and important… But Jason's my family now. I don't want anything to do with you if he doesn't." The little bird put his hand in Jason's.

"I never would have pictured you as the family man," Dick put in, laughter clear in his voice.

Jason glanced at his older brother briefly. "Yeah, who'd a thought." The words were soft, full of reflective vision.

Bruce observed the scenes through the white-visor glare of the cowl. His sons. His family. Pride welled up, thunderous and overwhelming. All of a sudden his house was less broken, less angry, and less likely to fall apart on top of him. The weight that had been on his heart since he had buried his son was lifting. Now, watching his sons together, his mind found solace. Their happiness was… fulfilling.

It was time for the father in him to step forward. "Damian, it's nice to meet you. Jason and you are both my sons, and I'd be glad to have both of you come to America with me. I can introduce you to your other brother, Tim." Jason stiffened at the mention of the other boy, but made no move to hold the youngest back. "I can protect you both, I'll do much better at it this time though." The father's gaze drifted back up to Jason before falling back to Damian.

The boy glared with a fierceness and arrogance that by all means should _not _be on the face of such a small child. "I've protected myself just fine, thank you," The boy spat indignantly, "And Jason is the _only _brother I choose to acknowledge." His voice was small, yet full of heated passion. Again, Bruce wondered if this truly was a child speaking; maybe not a normal child, but what could he truly expect from a child of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne?

"Guys, I hate to break up this beautiful family moment, but we really need to clear out of here." Dick was searching the sky and trees warily; they all felt the shift in the air, the silent change that signaled to the family that they were no longer alone.

It was just a theory until a red beam appeared over Jason's heart. Bruce paled visibly, his blood ran cold, and his throat squeezed shut. He was in motion before the bullet even left the barrel.

…

Blood filled the air just as the resounding boom of a sniper being fired hit the trees. The fear overpowered the pain, the adrenalin pushed him into action. He pushed himself on top of Damian just as Bruce practically collapsed on top of him. Kaiser howled forlornly before taking off, Dick in tow, in the direction of the sniper.

Damian made a weak cry of dissent, but quickly cut off when Jason's fresh bullet wound leaked a few drops on top of him. Jason was a bit surprised. The damn thing had gone _through _the goddamn _Batman_ and his seemingly immovable wall of muscle and Kevlar, straight into Jason. His father had probably slowed the thing down and shifted it enough that the wound would not be fatal. This would definitely be one of those scars he'd remember. It caused a thin line to form on Jason's neck. It bled profusely, hurt like a _bitch_, but would not be fatal. The bullet stopped in the tree behind the family and Batman – no, Bruce, stood over him, holding on tightly… just like he should have been all those years before in that damnable warehouse.

His father was smiling, happy to have taken the bullet for his son. Jason intelligent eyes were widened in shock. He could barely breathe and his neck burned, but he was calm, optimistic even, as Bruce placed a hand over the line marring his skin just as Jason placed his hand over the hole in his father.

Damian knelt to the side, looking on in horror. "Damnit, Todd, You will not leave me again," He cried.

The black sheep smiled, "Haven't you been paying attention, Little D? I'm one seriously hard fucker to kill." Damian's tear streaked face lightened a little, but still held the anxiety and fear there. Their family would make it, Jason knew it. The bullet had not hit anything vital in the father nor the son. Damian was unharmed and Dick and Kaiser would apprehend the guru. They'd all go home and for once in Jason Todd's life he'd have a fairytale ending.

Even as he let the hope fill him he heard the gun shots echoing in the forest, he heard grunts of pain, but that wasn't what scared him. It was the little red dot dead center on Damian's head.

**For those of you that don't know, the line that will mar Jason's skin is present in the comics. You see, in the Batman: Under the Red Hood comic, Batman leaves that mark with a batarang in order to stop Jason from killing the Joker without killing his son. I decided to leave a little parallel to the series. Let me know of any blaring errors! How? Review…**

**Now please… REVIEW!**


	12. Priorities

**To Robinett, my faithful reviewer, I must thank you for your motivation to write! Also, Yoda and my other reviewers…. Thank you. ^^**

**And here… is the conclusion to my story…. I may write more to the story depending on what feedback I get, but my muse has been fading as of late…. So…. Here it is. Thanks for sticking with me throughout it all!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of the characters affiliated with the series, that belongs to DC Comics. I own only my OCs. I also do not own the quote below, that credit goes to Albert Pine.**

**Without further ado, read on!**

Chapter 12

_What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others lives and is immortal. – Albert Pine_

Jason really needed a smoke. He hadn't had one in years, hadn't had an urge for one, but now… well, he'd give up every last one of his guns – and he had owned quite a few when he was with Kor Hol – for one single cigarette. He longed for the burn at the back of his throat, the rush of nicotine…

"Come on, Jason. Time to go back to the cage." Cold, detached, Kor Hol love. Jason could feel it in waves.

Yeah, he needed a cigarette. His blue-green eyes met Jacques' black ones. The berretta had Damian in its sights and all movement was frozen. They had planned this all too well. The initial shot was never meant to kill him, just to put Bruce out of the game, draw Dick and Kaiser away, and leave Damian and Jason completely vulnerable. They knew exactly which brother to target in order to ensure that Jason would not move against them. The familiarity of the hate made it no easier to bear.

Bruce's eyes betrayed the fear deep within despite the cowl as Jason shrugged off his father's arms. He staggered forward towards the man. He could actually feel the agony emanating from the man behind him with each step he took from Bruce.

"ah!" Jacques exclaimed, "Not another step, little bird, or I put a bullet in his brain." He waved the gun at Damian. Rage and revulsion rose in Jason, but he stopped about ten feet away from the bastard.

"Aim the gun at me, Jacques. After all, do you really want to push the League of Shadows to declare all-out war on Kor Hol? That boy's mother is Talia Al Ghul." Jason's gaze was as unwavering as his resolve, "Point the gun at me."

Jacques cracked a smile before laughing outright. He took a step closer. The barrel was facing Jason now. It was the most messed up thing, but the black sheep felt an unreserved sense of relief. Damian would be safe; he would have the life Jason knew the boy had always dreamed of. Normalcy.

"Why are you out here? Did you even ask? Or maybe you just like being Kor Hol's bitch." Jason smirked, intent on catching the man's anger.

Jacques' lips formed a hard line and the Hood could almost imagine it when the bullet ripped through his chest. "I'm no one's bitch. I volunteered for this. I just wanted to be the one to make you… dead." He smiled wickedly. Then he pulled the trigger.

Everything slowed down. Jason was on the ground, kneeling in the snow as the sky looked on mournfully. For a moment, just one, Jason swore he could see each snowflake individually as they reached for the ground. He definitely saw his blood lingering with each one.

Jason could almost imagine the tidal wave of black that tackled Jacques to the ground. He could almost imagine the tears streaming down Bruce's usually impassive face, or maybe the screams of his brothers and the howl of his wolf. But, of course, it wasn't imagination when the shadow overtook him. It could never be imagined that death stood by, waiting, for what would be the second time Jason's heart stopped beating in his chest. He wished he'd gotten that last smoke.

…

Jason could hear the faint beeping of machines, the stinging presence of the IV, and the familiar scratch of bandages, but it was all very far away. It was as though he could reach out to these feelings, but each slipped from his grasp. Only the steady noise of the machine came through. Faintly he could make out the angry clamor of voices, he picked out names and faces without seeing. Dick. Damian. _Bruce…_

The world slipped away as a flashback sucked him back into the confines of his mind.

…

Dick remembered the day Bruce had come to him with the news about Jason.

He remembered the man walking into his Bludhaven apartment, cape and cowl fixed firmly over his body. The eldest son of Bruce Wayne had waited for the man to speak, his royal blue eyes showing only an inkling of the curiosity inside. As the silence drew on, Dick's heart had begun to sink.

"Spit it out old man!" His nerves were still scattered from that nights patrol. "And where's my replacement? The punks usually _dying_ to rub it in that I'm not robin anymore." He had smiled, his words were not harsh, simply reminiscent. Then he noticed how Batman's face had fallen at the mention of Jason.

"Richard…" The use of his name startled him. Dick took a moment to look at his father, really look at him. His shoulders were slumped forward, something remarkably out of place on Batman's shoulders, as though they were weighed down by some unseen yet crippling force. Dick's eyes focused on how the man's breathing was labored and erratic; if he hadn't known better he would have guess Bruce was harboring some horrible wound… yet there was no blood on him now…

"What happened, Bruce?" The fear had risen and filtered into his voice.

"Jason's gone, Dick." And suddenly it all clicked for him. It made sense why Bruce had chosen to come to him in full costume; to keep the façade of impassivity. It made Dick Grayson sick. He remembered rushing forward and punching Batman right in the jaw, but it didn't stop there. Dick rained down blows that would probably leave bruises all over the older man. The tears had been flowing down his face and onto Bruce's chest by the time his father had finally snapped out of it and caught his eldest son's wrists.

An hour later, Dick had ripped off the cowl of the Dark Knight to reveal the grief-stricken father below. "If you're going to tell me how he died it has to be this way. Without the Batman to safeguard your emotions." His voice had been full of hate, but steady despite the tears threatening to choke him.

Now Dick Grayson just wished he had a cowl of his own.

…

_Three weeks later_

The members of the bat family stood by like silent guardians over the gravesite. It was cold today. Not nearly as much as it had been in Europe, but freezing nonetheless. The sun was shining, despite the temperature, and the man silently cursed the day. It was like an insult to the memory of his brother for the sun to be out, shining brightly.

The man knelt down and spoke softly to the grave, his words muffled and unintelligible due in some part to the wind plucking at his midnight black hair.

Dick stepped forward next, placing a patch of crimson roses atop the ground. He was sullen and quiet, much unlike his usual upbeat and joyful personality. The day was sucking the life out of all of them. It was almost too similar to the other time they had… but no, the family was not willing to go there.

Damian, the youngest and newest edition to the family was still crouched by the stone that marked the existence of his older brother. There were no tears on his face, there couldn't be. Jason had asked him to be strong before… but his eyes were red and puffy, he had already let the tears go long before now. He had known this man, perhaps not as well as he would have liked, but he had been nice nonetheless. He mourned the loss of strength and the yet unaccomplished goals of the one buried here.

Kaiser, the faithful wolf was nowhere to be found here. Once the family had arrived home, Damian had honorably declared Kaiser would be the first animal that would make his home at the manor. The family had agreed to make to position a permanent one, though Bruce suggested a Great Dane would have made a more hospitable pet…

Bruce stood by next to Tim, watching the scene through hooded eyes. He was tired, he didn't want to be here. There'd seen too much death already and seeing his sons here was the last thing he needed. It was bringing back all the times he'd walked these yards forlornly looking out for signs of life. It was foolish, really. Hoping for something was useless. Bruce longed to feel the slums of Gotham beneath him, to take his frustration out on those thugs. Seeing his sons in pain was… not something he bore lightly. Still, he couldn't quash the sense of contentment rising within him… it was uncalled for – he knew that – but it was there, just below the surface.

Tim watched his brothers quietly. He felt like an intruder here. He had never really known Jason – not in any way that counted at least. However, he had always idolized the Robin that was Jason Todd… He had always put the boy on a pedestal, perhaps because Jason, in his tenure as Robin, had been everything Tim wasn't. Jason had been strong; his fighting style fully developed and quite aggressive after his first few patrols. Tim always found himself lacking in that department. Tim was weaker, he was somewhat scrawny, he lacked the forceful bite that would back his bark. Sure Tim was always good at outwitting his opponents, but sometimes he just wished he had his predecessor's raw ability. Instead, he had been left to pick up the pieces. He sighed inwardly. Maybe, just maybe he could learn from Jason.

Kaiser, the faithful wolf was nowhere to be found here, he was roaming freely across the property. Once the family had arrived home, Damian had honorably declared Kaiser would be the first animal that would make his home at the manor. The family had agreed to make the position a permanent one, though Bruce suggested a Great Dane would have made a more hospitable pet… Then again, he couldn't exactly be considered a 'pet'…

"Well, I've said my peace. Let's go, guys." The man kneeling before the gravesite stood, his voice was nonchalant. The sun caught the white, somewhat ghostly scar that marred his neck as he got to his feet, his brothers followed suit. They were always meant to rise with him, as a family.

Dick, Damian, Tim, and Bruce followed Jason Todd as he walked solemnly away from his blood brother's gravesite. Right now, it honestly didn't matter that the family wasn't technically related to him by blood – they were family no less, and they weren't as broken as they were before.

When Jason had awoken a week ago back in the manor, he had been surprised to say the least. After all, not only was he _alive_, but he was alive and not being held captive in some cage in Kor Hol. Damian had been nowhere to be seen, but Kaiser was highly alert and laying devotedly beside him. His body had hurt like a _bitch_, but as he glanced around he realized he was in his old room. His head had been pounding painfully, and Jason had been glad to feel each bruise and gauze covered ligament. He was alive and he let himself revel in the fact. When Bruce asked him to stay at the manor Jason had wanted to flat out refuse… but then he remembered Jax and the promise made to him. And so, Jax in mind, he had agreed. Now, as he walked away from his brother's grave, he could almost feel Jax's presence here… it was odd, it weighed on his shoulders and his instincts, but he chose to ignore both in favor of laughingly sneering at Dick and ruffling Tim's hair in a rare display of affection. Damian trailed after them as Bruce wrapped his arms around his sons in a somewhat guarded display of affection.

Jax had set Jason on the path back to his home, and his little brother had stayed true to his promise. He felt himself smiling at the thought, and the pride attached to it. Below him, Jason strode steadily back to the manor completely oblivious to his silent guardian. This life wasn't for Jax, but he had made damn sure his brother would live a happy life behind those walls. And who knew, maybe one day they would meet up again. For now though, Jax turned away, leaving his brother and his family to peaceful coexistence. He chuckled lightly, yeah, like that would happen knowing Jason. But what the hell, a guy can dream, right?

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